Discovering Fan Fiction
by Aurora de la Noche
Summary: Hermione has a new computer... What could possibly happen when the Weasleys and Harry come over for the summer, go on-line, find a certain website, and discover the world that JKR and fanfic authors have created for them? Far too much for my liking...
1. 'Hermione, I could kiss you!'

Discovering Fan Fiction

Disclaimer: Not mine. It's all JK's, except misc. stuff I found on fanfiction.net. I only took the basic ideas, no one hurt me!

It was two weeks into the summer holiday. Harry Potter woke one morning to the traumatized screeches of his Aunt Petunia. He knew it must be about him, or his "abnormalities," because the screams were never this long or –here he stuck his finger in his ear—loud over their everyday problems.

"BOY!" Oh no. It must be worse than he'd thought. That was Uncle Vernon.

Gathering every ounce of willpower that he had, Harry forced himself out of bed. Realizing that he'd be in worse trouble for having them wait, he went downstairs still in his pajamas.

"This"—Uncle Vernon shouted by means of greeting as he brandished a perfectly normal envelope towards his nephew—"This arrived for you. In the mail." 

Harry took the envelope with some misgivings, as it wasn't parchment and hadn't arrived via owl, and that was the only type of communication he normally received. Looking at the return address, he felt himself release a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding as he saw that the letter was from one of his best friends, Hermione Granger.Ignoring his uncle's furious glaring, he took the letter and went back upstairs to read it.

"Dear Harry,

I do hope that you're doing all right, and that the Muggles are treating you well. I know that the last year was a bit…. horrible, and the Muggles can't be making it any easier for you, so I was wondering if you'd like to spend the rest of it here, at my house. I've already asked Ron to stay; he's arriving on Tuesday. His parents also thought it was such a good idea, they asked if Ginny, Fred, and George could stay, too. My dad weren't very pleased with all of the boys coming, but my mum convinced him that we'd behave. So, they are all coming, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley are having a well-deserved vacation. 

My mum and dad are sending another letter for the Muggles, to ask them properly. Even if they say no, the Weasleys have said that they'll come to get you anyway; you can't be having a good summer there! Your ride will arrive at one o'clock on Tuesday, this coming. I hope that will work for you. My dad will pick you up, if the Muggles give permission. He's coming back from a business trip near there, anyway, so don't worry about being an inconvenience. If they say no, however, Mr. Weasley will come via portkey to get you. If that is the case, be in your room with all of your school things at one thirty on Tuesday. We're getting you out of that house, Harry! I only hope you'll want to come. We can teach Ron, Fred, George, and Ginny all about being a Muggle! My house may be a bit different than what you're used to, but I'm sure you'll be acclimated shortly. We also just got a new computer! I do hope that we can all use it and go on the Internet. 

Anyway, I'd best return to my studies. I've only finished half of my homework! 

Love from,

Hermione"

'Hermione, I could kiss you!' was all that entered Harry's mind.

"BOY!" 

'Not again…'

Going downstairs again, Harry passed Dudley. Or, rather, pressed into the wall to avoid being crushed by the unbelievable bulk that was now Dudley. Last year's diet hadn't worked, and this year's was off to a horrible start; amazingly, Dudley had grown another size in the last nine months.

"You must have done something really wrong this time!" Dudley smiled his horrible smile.

Despite the wretched smell coming from his cousin, Harry smiled at the thought of escaping this all.

"BOY!"

"Right, right, I'm coming!" Harry muttered under his breath.

When he returned downstairs, Uncle Vernon was brandishing another letter. 

"You. Want. To. Try. THIS. Again!?" Each word was heavily emphasized. "Do. You. Have. Any. IDEA. How. Long. It. Took. To. Get. Dudley's. TONGUE. Back? And my living room?" 

'Well done, you managed to string a full sentence together that last try,' was what Harry wanted dearly to say, but what came out was, "Hermione's dad will pick me up. He drives a car." At the look still on his uncle's red face, he added, "He's a dentist."

"A dentist. You want me to believe that one of….YOUR KIND….is a DENTIST?"  
"He's not one of….my kind, Uncle Vernon. He's just a normal dentist."

Some of the red receded from his uncle's face, but only enough to make out that he did, after all, have a mouth.

"Well. Then. And you," he spat out you as though it was a vulgar word, "won't be coming back here until June?"

"No, Uncle Vernon."

"He'll come in a car?"

"Yes, Uncle Vernon."

"The NORMAL way?"

"Yes, Uncle Vernon."

"Tuesday."

"Yes, Uncle Vernon."

"THIS Tuesday?"

"Yes, Uncle Vernon." This was getting monotonous.

"There was only one stamp on the envelope."

Here, Harry figured it might be wiser not to say anything, as his uncle showed signs of thinking. It was always obvious when Uncle Vernon was thinking, because his face screwed up in a way that indicated his deep thought. Normally, he wore an expression of cruel stupidity, a la Crabbe and Goyle. 

"You'll get no help from us packing your….your, school things."

"So I can go?" 'Try not to sound too hopeful, try not to sound too hopeful.'

"Yes, you can ruddy well go. Now cut the lawn!"

~*~

Tuesday

Still not able to believe his luck, a second year in a row, Harry looked around his room to be certain that he had not left anything behind. It was twelve fifty-eight, and if Mr. Granger was anything like his daughter, he'd be there in exactly two minutes. One minute fifty-seven. One minute fifty-five. 

That wasn't accomplishing anything.

Checking out his window one last time, Harry scanned the skies for Hedwig. He'd sent Sirius an owl two days ago, when he'd found out he could go, and she hadn't returned yet. 

Crossing his room in three quick strides, Harry picked up Hedwig's empty cage and was about to leave when he heard a familiar tap-tap-tappity-tap on the window. Smiling broadly, he opened the window to let in his owl. She seemed pleased with herself and also angered that he'd been about to leave without her. She gave him a nip somewhat harder than normal, but still affectionate. Smiling to himself, Harry locked Hedwig in her cage and picked it up again.

At twelve fifty-nine and thirty four seconds, Harry was downstairs checking over his school things one last time. 

In the mirror in front of him, Harry saw Dudley's face reflected from around the corner of the kitchen wall in what he clearly thought was a half-hidden way. Given the size of Dudley's head, the mere thought was laughable. This was more than the thought. Harry doubled over in silent laughter at the bulbous head that looked clueless and frightened at the same time. 

One o'clock p.m. brought with it the sound of a car pulling into number 4, Privet Drive. Uncle Vernon, who had been in the kitchen reading the newspaper upside-down, had also apparently heard the car. Straightening his tie, which Harry noticed was the same one he'd worn the year before when Mr. Weasley had come to get him, he rounded on the door at exactly the same moment that the doorbell rang. 

This was the one time that Harry could ever remember not having been yelled at to open the door. The irony struck him that the one time he didn't have to open the door, it was for him.

As the door was yanked open, Harry could hear Uncle Vernon grunting a greeting to Mr. Granger. Straightening, he could now see his uncle shaking hands and leaning over the smaller man to see what type of car he drove. Seemingly satisfied, he invited the man in and pointed to Harry.

As his uncle stepped aside, Harry was granted his first clear look at Mr. Granger. He was about a head shorter than Uncle Vernon and about as thin as Aunt Petunia. He wore a tweed suit with a matching hat clutched tightly in his right hand, his overcoat over the same arm. His left hand covered the hat, the fingers drumming the brim. His hair was neatly combed with a part almost as straight as Mr. Crouch's had been. Around one of the fingers on his left hand was his key ring. Harry could see at once why his uncle had seemed pleased with him; the key ring had a BMW trademark on it. His uncle was notorious for judging other men on the cars they drove.

"Very nice place, Mr. Dursley. I quite like that figurine over there. My wife collects those too. Ah, Harry m'boy, are you ready then? Wonderful! Why don't I help you with that trunk? Mr. Dursley, why don't you help Harry with that satchel there? Lovely!" Mr. Granger's voice was surprisingly deep for such a small man, and he spoke with the authority that many of the professors at Hogwarts possessed. 

Harry's eyes widened as he saw Uncle Vernon obligingly pick up the bag. When he caught his nephew's eye, Vernon clearly relayed the message to never, NEVER expect this EVER again. Harry smiled to himself and picked up Hedwig's cage. 

Once in the car, Mr. Granger leaned conspiratorially over to Harry. 

"'Mione told me what your family was like. I see that she didn't exaggerate. But then, she doesn't that often, does she?" He had a hearty laugh.

"No, sir, she doesn't," Harry replied, finally realizing who this 'Mione was.

"Well, Harry, I do extend my condolences over being related to that. When she told me about your, er, escapades last year in getting away, I decided to borrow my boss' car." He guffawed here, then whispered, "We drive a station wagon."

Harry felt himself relaxing, and enjoyed Mr. Granger's anecdotes about Hermione as a young child.

"Before we knew that 'Mione was a, a witch –sorry, that's still strange to say—we always wondered at what she could do. Why once, she couldn't have been six, she was so excited to be reading at night, that she somehow kept pulling the book from my hands while she was tucked tight in bed. I had to continually walk back, get the book, and try to leave. Finally, after about ten minutes, maybe more, she got the book, the lights flared on, and I found myself outside of her closed and locked door."

After an hour had passed, Mr. Granger told Harry that they lived only another fifteen minutes away. He then gave Harry a stern look and cleared his throat the way Uncle Vernon did whenever he had anything important to say.

"Now, Harry, you seem a respectable boy. 'Mione told us that much, and I've ascertained that for myself as well. I'm sure you'll understand when I tell you, as a father, that I was not, let's say, happy when 'Mione asked us to have two boys over for the summer. When it turned into four, I was less than ecstatic. I just want to be sure that you'll respect all boundaries I set as far as my daughter is concerned. I know about the whole Rita Scooter fiasco last year, and…what?"

"Skeeter. Rita Skeeter." Harry could not help laughing.

"Yes, Skeeter, of course. So, I know that you and my 'Mione are only friends. I'd like to see nothing more than a friendly interest in my daughter. My only daughter. My pride and joy. Harry, do you see where I'm going with this?"

Harry managed to collect himself enough to say, "Yes, sir."

"Smashing. Ah, and perfect timing!"

Just then, they rounded a bend and Harry caught his first look at Hermione's house. It was a three story Victorian house, classic and just as the smartest student of the year's house should be. The immense lawn would easily have fit two of the Dursley's house inside of it, maybe three.

Getting out of the car, he was immediately pelted in the head with a rock. No, not a rock…

"Pig!" The tiny owl hooted contentedly in Harry's hand. "That must mean Ron's here…"

"Harry!" Five voices cried out in unison.

Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Fred, and George came running, or in the twins' case, skipping, up the lawn to see him. A fierce, confused hug ensued, with Fred and George yelling out "Dog pile!" and jumping on top of the heap.

"'Mione…call your mother," came a strangled voice from underneath a trunk, a bag, and an owl cage.

"Daddy! Goodness, George, Fred, help him!" Hermione yelled out as she went towards the house to fetch her mother.

The twins duly marched up to Mr. Granger and each grabbed an end of the trunk and yanked. That would have been a kind gesture, but the fact that it had been supporting the bag and cage nullified that. Hedwig's cage crashed to the ground and flung open. A hoot and a heap of feathers later, she was gone into the nearest tree. Fred and George grinned sheepishly, heaved the trunk higher, and marched off towards the house.

Mr. Granger smiled and picked up the bag and now-empty cage.

"Harry, welcome to Chez Granger," Ron said, putting on a horrible French accent and attempting to bow as only a concierge can, and failing miserably, falling on his face.

Ginny giggled and Harry noticed her for the first time. She had grown over the summer, he realized with a start. She was now eye level with him, and seemed to have lost the air of youth. Well, of being so much younger anyway.

Harry reached out his hand and pulled Ron to his feet. Ginny giggled more and announced a race to the house. She and Ron took off instantaneously, and Harry began to run a moment later. 

Though she had grown considerably, Ginny still lost badly to the boys. Ron was doubled over panting when Harry reached the door barely winded, and it took the youngest Weasley another twenty seconds to get to them. Ron ruffled her hair as they entered the house.

A/N: First chapter. **Sniff** My first chaptered story. How nice, right?

The inspiration hit me for this spontaneously, so I don't have any idea at all when the next installation will be. Anyhoo, don't let the title and this segment fool you, really, that will happen. Promise. 

(-:

Thanks to my loyal reviewers:

(Notice no names are listed here. I need reviews. Please….)


	2. Sleeping Conditions and Mashed Potatoes

Discovering Fan Fiction  
  
Chapter 2: Introduction to Hermione's Daily Muggle Life  
  
  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine, none of it. I would claim the plot, but I feel that the voices own that.... I do whatever they tell me to anyway...  
  
Disclaimer to the disclaimer: I don't think you were supposed to know that, about the voices. Disregard that.  
  
A/N: Thank you to the lovely people who've reviewed part one. And this is another intro into ffnet, so another cliffhanger....Not really, but I can pretend. Sorry, they don't discover the site in this episode, but the next probably. I just had sudden inspiration for some scenes in here, so naturally I had to include them. After reading the stories, I don't think these scenes could have happened.  
  
And thus,   
The Story!  
  
  
  
"Welcome! You must be Harry!" Right after Harry, Ron, and Ginny had reached the door, it was flung open by the woman Hermione had obviously inherited her bushy hair from.   
"Er," was all that Harry managed to get out before being swept into a hug. Gasping for breath, he looked up to see Mrs. Weasley, who had just released him.  
"We just got here ourselves, with the kids. Harry! Oh, I'm so glad you could come to stay! And to have Ron, Fred, George, Hermione, and Ginny here with you...." Here Mrs. Weasley dabbed at her moistened eyes, "Well, anyway, it must be much better than the Dursleys'."  
"Yes, yes, it is, thank you," Harry told Mrs. Weasley. Turning back to Mrs. Granger, he said, "And thank you for having me. I don't know how I would have lasted the summer without escape from the Dursleys."  
"Mum, why don't I show everyone to their rooms?" Hermione proposed, coming into the entrance hall.  
"Spiffing."  
"Fred, George! Come on, if you want any place to sleep!" Hermione yelled out, then to Harry, Ginny, and Ron, added, "If they don't get here soon, maybe I'll put them in the basement with Crookshanks."   
Laughing, the four ascended the stairs, the thumping footsteps of the twins following directly.  
"This is my room. Ginny, you can stay in here with me. I have two twin beds," Hermione took on the role of tour director as Ginny stowed her bags within the doorway of the room that still remained out of view to Harry.  
"This is the bathroom," the door next to Hermione's as they passed down the hallway, "and here is the guest room, for you guys..." Hermione's voice trailed off as she inexplicably blushed.   
Ron was the first into the room. With an "eep," he came out a moment later. Wondering, Harry went in as soon as Ron had cleared the doorway. Fred and George piled into the room right after Harry, and nearly plowed into him when he'd stopped dead.  
One king sized bed dominated the room. It had a pink, flowered comforter and matching, lacy pillowcases. One cot was placed on the floor next to the bed.  
In one motion, all three heads turned to Hermione, whose attention was presently turned to a door across the hall, examining a rather plain doorknob with such rapt interest that one would think it a treasured antique. Still slightly pink, she turned back to them.  
"My grandmother normally is the only one who stays over. And, er," here she went pink again, then spit out her next words rather quickly, "we only have one cot and one couch, so two of you will have to share the bed."  
All four boys' heads turned to one another, and next instant, Harry found himself in the middle of the pileup that had landed on top of the cot. Grumbling, they all got off to see who'd gotten there first. Ron lay grinning on the cot.  
"Guess I'll sleep here, then," he said cheekily, in a perfect imitation of the twins.  
A sudden noise distracted the other three boys from their intended plan, which had been pouncing on Ron. Ginny was supported by the doorframe, convulsed in giggles. Hermione hid her laughs behind her hand.   
Laughing harder, Ginny looked the three who'd not gotten the cot as straight in the eye as she could and said, "Right then. Ron's got the cot. Who gets the couch?"  
Rather than pounce on Ron, Fred, George, and Harry darted down stairs rather haphazardly, where Fred ran straight into his mother's arms, and Harry into a wall. George leapt onto the couch with the air of victory about him.  
"Fred?" Mrs. Weasley asked, stunned, holding her son out at arm's length and examining him.   
"Mum! George's got the couch now!"  
Here, Mrs. Granger began laughing. "'Mione, you showed the boys the guest room?" Hermione giggled in response, and both mothers also joined in the laughing.  
"That means I have to share a bed with him!" Fred and Harry yelled out in unison, Harry rubbing his forehead where it had hit the wall.  
By this time, Ron had also ambled downstairs, and Mr. Granger and Mr. Weasley into the room. Everyone had heard the last comment and burst out into laughter at the two slightly pink-tinged boys who were pointing at each other.  
  
  
~*~  
  
Three hours later, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had left, after wishing their children, Harry, and Hermione a wonderful summer. They said that they would return most likely on Harry's birthday, and for certain a week before September 1, in order to take everyone to Diagon Alley to get their school things.   
"Dinner time, children!" Mrs. Granger called from the kitchen.  
Ron and Harry went downstairs; they were the only visitors who had finished unpacking, and Hermione was still showing Fred and George how the Muggle shower worked, for in the morning. When they got there, Mrs. Granger explained that in their house, everyone helped out with dinner. Spying Harry first, she handed him a stack of plates and silverware, and pointed him towards the table.  
"Dear, dear, I've forgotten mashed potatoes!" Mrs. Granger mumbled to herself.   
As Ron walked towards Harry to help set the table, she grabbed his arm and looked at him. "Ron, would you help with mashed potatoes?"  
"Sure."  
"Thank you! We haven't enough time left for me to prepare homemade ones, so I'm going to have to resort to the instant ones Hermione likes so much. They're the Boston Market boxes in the 'fridge."  
"Er, the fridge?"  
"Oh dear! You're quite right, they're in the freezer!" Mrs. Granger told him, thinking he'd been surprised that frozen food had been in the refrigerator.   
Harry looked up from the place setting he was working on and pointed to the upper half of the big white refrigerator, grinning at Ron's confused expression that he reserved for all things Muggle.   
Ron took the hint and pulled on the handle to the freezer. When it schlucked open and spewed cold air out, he jumped back in alarm. Mrs. Granger looked curiously over to him, but he was determined not to show his Muggle ignorance. He regrouped and looked inside this mystery cube. Eventually, he found the boxes and pulled them out.   
"Lovely," said Mrs. Granger, looking over and seeing that he had them. "Now, just read the directions and," here she glanced at her watch, "put them in the microwave. We haven't enough time left to use the oven...Where are the others, anyway?"  
Even as she said that, Fred and Ginny bounded downstairs and into the kitchen. Fred was grinning evilly, and Ginny was, once again, giggling madly.  
A moment later, Harry found out why.   
"Fred!!!!" The angry, yet somehow amused, shout echoing downstairs could only have originated from George.  
"George, get back here, I've found the towels! ...George!" That would be Hermione.  
But a moment later, George appeared in the kitchen as suddenly as if he'd Apparated in. His normally ruddy red hair was now a drenched ginger that blended perfectly with his -also drenched- green sweater. A look that was a cross between amusement and anger that came off as ridiculous was etched on his face.   
"So, you learned how to use the shower then, I take it?" Ron asked amusedly and perfectly innocently.  
"Ga!" yelled George and flicked his fingers to sprinkle excess water at his brother. This startled Ron into dropping the frozen mashed potatoes onto his toe. When he sprung up as a reflex of the sudden pain, his flailing arm knocked Ginny, who'd been hovering nearby, into Harry, who fell into a chair with Ginny landing on his lap.   
At that particular moment, Hermione walked into the kitchen. Her eyes scanned the scene: Ron jumping up and down, holding onto his left foot, mashed potato boxes at his feet, Ginny on Harry's lap (here a slight scowl crossed her face), George now chasing Fred around the small kitchen, and her mother looking sadly at the new linoleum floor, now complete with giant sopping wet spot. She couldn't keep from laughing.  
Spotting his new target, Fred grinned wickedly. An identical grin caught on George's soaked face.  
Laughing even harder than Ginny (who was now getting up from Harry's lap, with a scarlet face), Hermione let herself be splenched with water from both twins. An inexplicable scowl crossed Ron's face as he stopped hopping madly about, his toe pain now under control. Harry caught Ron's expression and sent a grin towards his friend, who reddened in response. If that was how it was going to be, ...  
Hands on her hips, Mrs. Granger wore an expression similar to the one that Hermione wore whenever Ron or Harry proposed rule breaking. "Ahem" All parties involved looked guiltily up towards the matron of the house. "If we've finished, how about we finish preparing dinner? You and you," she pointed out the twins, "I don't trust in my kitchen. Get the towels 'Mione found for you and clean that," she pointed at the puddles "up. Ron, make those potatoes. The microwave is right there," she pointed once again. " 'Mione, make sure nothing gets blown up. And, dear," here she lowered her voice so everyone else had to strain to hear what they weren't supposed to (but did anyway), "you might want to change your shirt. I wouldn't suggest white this time..." she cleared her throat and spoke normally again as Hermione walked upstairs, red again. "Harry, the table. Ginny, why don't you pour out drinks for everyone. Lovely. I'll go feed Crookshanks. Don't make a mess!" After her speech, Mrs. Granger walked out of the kitchen in as dignified a manner as she could muster when she was about to burst out laughing herself.   
Now free from his act of Muggle-awareness, Ron leaned over to Harry and asked how to use the microwave.   
"Ron, read the instructions on the box. How long does it say?"  
"Five to seven minutes."  
"On?"  
"Medium?"  
"Set the timer, there..... No, that's the clock...yes, set that for five minutes. And that switch there to medium."  
"Ok!"  
"Ron."  
"What?"  
"Take it out of the box."  
"Oh."  
"Wait!"  
"What?"  
"Does it say anything else?"  
"Peel back a corner." He did.  
"Good."  
* Beep *  
"Ron."  
"What?"  
"That was five seconds."  
"Oh."  
Figuring that Ron would probably get it now, Harry went back to setting places at the table. Ginny followed him from setting to setting, filling the glasses with cranberry juice. They worked peacefully, all three of them, for about ten minutes. When Harry realized that, he turned to Ron.  
"Ron."  
"What?"  
"You set it to five minutes, right?"  
"Yeah."  
"It's been ten."  
"Oh."  
"Oh, Ron!"  
"What, Ginny?"  
"It's not supposed to smoke like that!"  
"How do you know? Stuff that mum cooks smokes all the time!"  
"She doesn't use a microwave!"  
"So...I should turn it off?"  
"YES." From both Harry and Ginny.  
"Oh."  
"What!?" Hermione reappeared in the kitchen (wearing a black shirt, this time. A black spaghetti strap tank top that clung...no, just a black shirt) wearing a terrified expression that reflected in her tone of voice.   
"Just a little smoke..." Ron now sounded very guilty, but Harry did notice that his eyes bugged out just a little bit when Hermione entered the room...  
"Ginny, would you open the window? I only hope it clears out before my mum comes back...Harry, light that candle there, on the table!" Hermione looked about as worried as she did when Professor McGonagall could possibly catch them stepping out of line.  
"Oh!"  
"Now what, Ron?"  
"Er, the potatoes seem to have exploded."  
Plugging his nose, Harry walked forward to examine the damage in the microwave. It looked like some of the ingredients for potions normally did: unidentifiable and splattered. Making the mistake of unplugging his nose (to breathe), Harry took in some of the rank fumes coming out of the small box.  
"RON!" Hermione yelled, rushing forward.   
"Uh..."  
"Quickly, help me clean this! Grab the sponge!"  
By the light up in Ron's eyes, Harry knew that Ron knew what a sponge was. Ron went over to the sink, picked one up, and carried it back to the microwave.  
  
~*~  
  
Twelve minutes later, the microwave was completely free of mashed potatoes. The smoke, however, decided to hang around...to linger just long enough for...  
"What happened in here?" Mrs. Granger gave a dead-on impersonation of Professor McGonagall (without realizing it, of course), and Harry was immediately reminded of why he'd thought Hermione had been acting out of fear of their Transfiguration teacher.   
"It's all right, mum, Ron just had never used a microwave before. He put it in for too long. ...We don't need potatoes anyway. Look, the table's all ready, and the floor is dry. Let's eat, shall we?" Hermione sat and gave meaningful looks to Harry and Ron, who each took a seat on either side of her.  
"Well..." with a dubious expression and a shrug, Mrs. Granger sat down, too.  
  
After the whole microwave fiasco had cooled down (and been explained to Mr. Granger, who needed the cooling down), dinner was a very enjoyable affair, even without mashed potatoes. The meal was nearly as large as those Harry had had at the Burrow the summers before. Mrs. Granger also seemed to think that eight dishes were necessary to the survival of people. Then again, there were five extra people at the table. And the Weasleys did prove to have very voracious appetites, so all was well. No food went to waste.   
  
~*~  
  
"Um..." Turning red, Hermione tightened her grip on her towel and ran towards the open door. "The bathroom is connected to both my room and the guest room!" she yelled to whichever boy had been unfortunate enough to have his knee slammed into by the door as it closed quickly and very unceremoniously. And then, to herself, "I forgot to lock the door!"  
  
"Harry? What's up...?" Ron asked as he stepped into the guest room, where Harry was sitting on the bed, holding his knee and smiling stupidly.  
Wiping the smile off his face, he told Ron that "Hermione forgot that people were staying in here. I tried to go into the bathroom, but I'd barely gotten the door open before this red creature in...in a towel jumped at the door. It banged my knee."  
"Oh." The tips of Ron's ears tinged pink.  
'Fine, if that's how it's going to be, ...' Harry thought to himself.  
Just then, Ginny burst into the room (shocker) giggling.  
"Well. Which of you was it?"  
"What?"  
"Nevermind," she said simply, spotting Harry with his hand still on his knee. "Hermione just told me to tell you that the bathroom is free now."  
She left, and Ron shook his head and muttered something about "sisters" under his breath. Harry laughed.   
  
"Children! I think you'd better get to bed now...you'll have a long day tomorrow!" Mrs. Granger called up the stairs.   
" (Bleepity) " Harry muttered as Fred entered the room in his pajamas.  
"Goodnight, sweetheart! Mwah!" Fred said in a voice an octave higher than his own, as he blew Harry what would have been a very sloppy kiss. "Which side of the bed do you want?"  
"Goodnight." Harry said, simply, and rather simply, as he climbed into the left side of the bed.  
As Ron chuckled in his cot (mental growl from Harry), he suddenly found himself the recipient of two well-aimed pillows.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
A/N: What the fudgles was that all about? I don't know. Like I said, the voices.... Truth be told, while I was writing this, I was also on-line (reading other fanfic), and so somewhat distracted. It had to be done-I had to get them through the first night. I hope you found some type of twisted amusement in this. Please, Please, PLEASE review.   
  
Thank you to absolutely EVERYONE who has reviewed part one. You don't know what it means to me - not a single flame! You're all so nice! Lying scoundrels, but nice! :)   
  
Also, I know I made this part seem that both Ron and Harry like 'Mione, but I'm open to suggestions as to what this should be made, if I decide to make * ahem * anything happen...between certain someones...Your vote would help...include it in your REVIEW (hint, hint).  
I feel so cheap!  



	3. Flom-Footers, Blushing, Root Canals, and...

The Discovery

Disclaimer: You get it. Not mine. 

A/N: And now, the part you've all been waiting for! THE DISCOVERY OF FANFICTION.NET!!! (glares at the less than enthusiastic huzzahs surrounding her, and they instantly turn into frighteningly enthusiastic huzzahs.) 

Prepare yourself for far too much blushing. Hey, I think it's cute…

Maybe I should prolong this a bit more?

HUGE thanks to all my reviewers (could use more….looks around again…) 

Still haven't decided on potential shippage yet, so keep the votes coming in! 

Review, review, REVIEW! See, it inspires me! This is my second chapter posted TODAY!! Wow…

I have no idea how long this will turn out to be, I wasn't even expecting that second chapter at all, but I was eating Boston Market mashed potatoes and they were just screaming for a place in the story, so I gave it to them. Too bad they exploded…

Now, on with (drumroll please) the discovery!

"Wakey, wakey, honey buns!" 

How horrible. What a nightmare… Harry had dreamed that he'd been sharing a bed with…

"FRED!?"

"Sugar, you're up!"

Hitting himself in the forehead, which still ached from when he'd run into the wall yesterday, Harry thumped back into bed from his recently acquired sitting position. Fred just leaned farther over him, leering unpleasantly with a grin on his freckled face.

"Muffin, they'll be disappointed if you don't show your pretty lil' mug around here sometime soon. Don't know why…. Anyway, our dear lil' 'Mione requests your presence downstairs. Come on, …" 

While Fred thought of another horrible nickname for him, Harry jumped up (fastest I've ever gotten out of bed, he mused) and ran to the bathroom door. Reddening slightly, he knocked before going in, remembering the last night. And Hermione in a towel. Why was that grin appearing on his face now…? 

When Harry went downstairs, he saw a less-than-gruntled (A/N: if people can be disgruntled, why not gruntled too?) Ron half-asleep in his oatmeal. Ginny came downstairs a moment later, and turned a charming pink as she realized that the only empty chair left was next to Harry. She turned even pinker when the two of them simultaneously reached for the same blueberry muffin. She turned the brightest pink that anyone present had ever seen her when George, from her other side, nudged her not-so-gently into Harry and she landed in his lap again. 

Ever the gentleman, Harry put one arm under her waist and helped her back to her own chair as he turned a slight pink himself. And they thought they'd seen the pinkest that Ginny could go…

"So, Hermione," Ron said, eager to get the focus off of his sister and his best friend, "what are we doing today?"

"I figured we could have a computer powwow."

"A what powwow?"  
"Computer."

At the strange looks from Mr. and Mrs. Granger, Ron nodded pseudo-knowledgably before continuing, "Right. I thought you said, er, a flom-footer…" At the strange looks from everyone else, he quieted and decided to try a new tactic: switching topics. "So, how did everyone * sleep * ?" 

"Very well, thank you," said George with a smirk.

"Pleasantly," said Mr. Granger.

"Nicely, thank you," said Mrs. Granger.

"Well," said Hermione.

"Like this," said Ginny, who proceeded to put her less-red face onto the pillow of her arms and mock-sleep.

Fred and Harry just glared at Ron, who grinned maliciously with an evilness that did not quite reach his laughing eyes.

"What kind of computer is it, Hermione?" asked Harry, still staring daggers at Ron.

"Um, I'll have to check."

"That's ok, it doesn't matter anyway." Said Harry, still staring daggers at Ron, and now imagining him being covered in mashed potatoes and strung up from a flagpole upside down with a sign that said "I'm a git" on it. He couldn't help himself from laughing aloud at that thought.

"Harry…?"

"Mashed potatoes…Flagpole…Ron…Git!" Harry tried to convey the humor that he found in this, but no one else seemed to share the sentiment, thought Ginny did laugh a bit at the flabbergasted explanation.

"Flag…Oh no!Kids! I've only just remembered! We have to go into the office today! The Flags called in, and their son needs an emergency root canal! You'll be home…alone." Mrs. Granger told the delighted teenagers with a quavering voice.

"I'll keep an eye on them, mum," Hermione said, sounding resigned.

"Lovely."

"Now, why don't I just take a moment to talk to the four boys…?" suggested Mr. Granger, with a smile that told them that they were going to get a lecture.

As the three women were left in the kitchen to clean up after themselves and the messy men (A/N- I love that phrase, messy men), those of the male persuasion were herded into the living room. 

"If he tries to warn us away from Hermione again…" Ron whispered to Harry, half-exasperated. Harry responded with a chuckle.

"Boys, I know this is going to come across a bit overprotective of me, but I need to know that I can trust you here…alone…with my daughter. And Ginny," he shot at Harry, who felt himself flush again. 

"I give you my word, sir," said Fred pompously, in a dead-on impression of Percy, while somehow managing to keep a straight face.

"As do I, Mr. Granger. And good luck on that difficult procedure," added George, trying to sound both pompous and knowledgeable at the same time. 

"Don't worry sir, I'll keep these two away from her," Ron tried to sound confident, but quailed under the stares of his brothers.

"You've nothing to worry about, sir." Harry said.

"Excellent."

~*~

"No, Ron…You're staring at the printer…That won't do anything yet, as it's not even on…See the screen? That's what you look at…" Hermione tried for at least the fourth time to explain just how the computer worked. 

Luckily, the Gateway had a screen large enough that the six of them could all see without too much difficulty. Harry, though, had a seat behind Ron, who was notably taller than him. As he couldn't see the screen very clearly (he suspected he might need a stronger glasses prescription), he looked out the window directly to his left and lost track of time for a little while, occasionally hearing snippets of conversation.

"What's it doing!?"

"Ron, that's the sound it makes when you turn it on."

"Now what's that? A…a cow?"

"Ron, that's the Gateway symbol. Oh, Harry, it's a Gateway."

"How is that picture there? Ahh! What's the arrow thingy?"

Here Hermione let out an exasperated sigh.

"Hey, cool, look, it's following that clicky thing you're moving…"

"Ron, shut it!" George smacked him upside the head.

Harry laughed to himself a bit.

A few minutes later, 

"Ack! Where'd that come from?" A new window had opened on the screen.

"Ron, just don't look at it until she gets it online, will you?" Fred looked close to smacking him upside the head now, too, which may have just been because he looked just like George, and George had just smacked him.

Harry was, by this time, wholeheartedly watching a sparrow as it pecked about the ground, trying to find its next meal. He thought it funny how birds hopped on the ground, as though it wasn't nearly as stable as the sky…

"Harry?" Ginny.

"Hum?"

"You all right?" She was speaking softly.

"Look at the bird." She did.

"It's pretty."

"I rather thought so."

"Ron!"  
The two were jerked away from the awkward moment that had arisen after Harry had agreed about the bird's being pretty. 

"What'd he do now?" Harry asked with a grin.

"He's an idiot," George summed it up before Hermione could get her mouth open.

Ron looked over from where he was standing at a window on another wall. 

"The screen said to, er, close the window…" he said.

Harry, Ginny, and Hermione laughed heartily while the twins mouthed something to Ron that Harry could not see, but that made Ron blush and look at Hermione.

"YOU'VE GOT MAIL."

"Ga!" Ron yelped and jumped almost a foot in the air, cracking his head loudly against the chandelier hanging from the ceiling.

"What was –that?" Ron managed, massaging his head.

"Why don't you go check, Ronniekins? Mail chute's over there." Fred pointed toward the door while George covered Hermione's almost protesting mouth. 

Ron went over, then came back a moment later, looking confused. 

"Empty…"

"It means e-mail," Hermione said ever more exasperatedly, finally without George's hand over her mouth.

As she explained about electronic ("electronic, not eklectrinoc") mail, Harry and Ginny took to looking out the window again. The sparrow was nowhere in sight, but a robin was now hopping about the small garden.

"Oh….my…." Hermione gasped a few minutes later. "Harry…"

"Huh?" Pulled from his reverie, Harry turned his attention once again to the computer screen.

The main window on the screen had many small icons to the left, and fanfiction.net boldly written across the top. Under the heading "books" was Harry's name.

The formerly feuding six now leaned in as one to face the computer screen. With a trembling hand, Hermione clicked the books icon. On the next page, the words "Harry Potter (11943)" were printed. Hermione clicked that. 

"Harry Potter and the…." "Harry Potter and…" "MWPP" "R/H" "H/H" "H/G" "G/D" "D/H" "H/D slash" "Slash" "Remus/Sirius" "the Burrow" "Vernon" "Dursley" "Muggle" "Hogwarts" "Krum" "Mary Sue" "Flame" "Review" were some of the phrases that jumped out at the six pairs of eyes gazing intently at the screen. They seemed to make no sense at all, but obviously had some meaning, as they included everyone present's names. 

"What the!?" 

"Click one, Hermione…" came the cautious command from Harry.

She began to read from the first story she saw. "'One stormy night, Fred and George Weasley had finally convinced their friend Lee Jordan to join their…' Oh…my…gosh….Fred! George! Lee!?!??"

Fred and George leaned in and read out at the same time, "TWINCEST!?" 

"Get out of there, I don't want to think of my brothers like that!" Ron yelled.

"Let's try here…'Hermione Granger waited in the lonely corridor for her boyfriend…' Never mind!" 

"Percy!" Yelled out Ginny, laughing wildly, managing to read it before Hermione clicked out of there.

"Harry Potter leaned in and….oh, my," Ginny went pinker than even that morning at breakfast at the beginning of the next story. At the beginning of the next sentence, she said softly, "I didn't know that the human body was capable of doing…that…"

"Ginny!" Ron read out loud several of Harry and Ginny's supposed exploits, as the two named in the story turned steadily pinker, climaxing at a color near the red of a Muggle stop light.

~*~

Several hours later…

"So, let's see then, I've been paired with Ginny, Hermione, Ron, Fred, George, that covers all of us here, Sirius, Malfoy, all of them, yech, Professor Snape, wait, all of the professors, yech, even Dumbledore!, Neville, Dean, Seamus, Lavender, Parvati, Colin and Dennis Creevey, Crabbe, Goyle, Fawkes, that's gross, wait, all of these are, Millicent Bull---, Bulstrode, sorry, Pansy Parkinson, Voldemort, sorry, Ron, You-Know-Who, Cho, Cedric, Krum, sorry, Hermione, Viktor, Oliver Wood, Alicia, Angelina, Katie, and, ah, heck, everyone we know…" Harry read off his list. Checking it again, he added, "and some I think people just made up…"

"Right. I've got Ron, Harry, Malfoy, Neville, Sirius, Fred, George, Colin Creevey, Professor Lockhart, Viktor, Cho, Ginny, Cedric, …" Hermione read part of hers; had she read the whole thing, she wouldn't have been able to stop from laughing aloud.

"Hermione, Harry, heck, everyone in this room, Bill, Charlie, Percy, yech, they're my brothers!, Krum, Snape, Malfoy, Padma, Parvati, Lavender, Norbert, yes, George, the dragon, …" Ron read the beginning of his.

"My list and Fred's are the same. They don't even think of us as individuals. I'm hurt. Let's see… We've got each other, everyone else with the last name Weasley, Harry, Hermione, Mary Sue, don't know her, Cho, Lupin, Moody, all the professors, really, Moaning Myrtle, that's gross, the giant squid, Hagrid, and, …aw, what's the use? Ginny, who do you have?"  
"Harry, Hermione, all my brothers, Malfoy, Hagrid, a broomstick, …what's the use? Everyone." Ginny sighed. "Well, we're all whores." 

"Ginny!" Ron again. He didn't know that his younger, purer, innocent little sister could know such a vulgar word. It was worse that she would use it so nonchalantly.

"This is insane."

"Completely."

"How…how do they know all about us? And about… Hogwarts? These seem to be written by Muggles."

"No idea."

"Who is J.K. Rowling, anyway? Why is she…he? She…Why is she in all of these, er, disclaimers?"

"The library!"

"Hermione, is that your answer for everything?"

"You're right, Ron!"

"I am?" A gasp, and he fell out of his chair, not for the first time since the discovery of this…insane website.

"Yes!" She minimized the windows of fan fiction that they had open and typed in a search engine. "J.K. Rowling," she read as she put it into the input box as Ron looked on interestedly.

"The author of four Harry Potter novels," Hermione read off the screen, and then looked at Harry, who shrugged, "Joanne K. Rowling is regarded as the wizard behind the magic of the books. The four books so far in this seven-part series are Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone, Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets," Ginny shuddered, "Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, and Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire," Here Harry shuddered. "all of which have been on many bestseller lists. …It goes on. Now, Ron, we do have to go to the library. We have to read these books!" Hermione had the familiar glint in her eye, which told Ron that this was going to happen, whether or not they wanted it to.

"First though…What about these stories?"

"Can we complain?"  
"Fan Fiction, Ron. They think we're…they think we're * characters * in a made up story. They don't believe any of this… And, they don't even have the story right, if what I've seen here is any indication of these…books…"

"Well, I don't want these people getting the wrong idea about…. anything," here Ron reddened, as he was looking at Hermione.

"Don't worry," she was oblivious to the pink tinge that extended to his ears.

Harry caught a glimpse of himself in a mirror across the room from where he was sitting and burst into laughter. They all looked strangely at him, then laughed too. The spot on his forehead where he'd run into the wall the previous day was now a livid bruise that extended across his lightning-bolt shaped scar like a purple cloud, and was made all the more obvious because of the strange paleness that had crept into his normally darker complexion. His eyes were even open wider than normal (and seemed stuck that way), giving him the look of a very strange child with a purple face painting (that was the scar and the bruise) looking at himself in a funhouse mirror. 

After thoroughly critiquing himself, he turned to look at everyone else in turn. Ginny's face seemed to be alternating between white-pale and bright scarlet, both of which made her freckles all the more obvious, yet looked somehow…cute…(Harry felt himself blush at thinking of his best friend's little sister as "cute"). Hermione was holding herself together very well, but her eyes seemed to have grown three sizes, and her skin was noticeably paler, though her expression didn't betray too much alarm…anymore. Ron was sheet-white. Fred and George's shock had long since worn off, and they were both wearing their customary grins. (Well, Harry thought, at least those…fanfic authors had gotten one thing right)

At that moment, when all six were studying one another, and looking in the mirror, they heard the front door open and Mrs. Granger's cheerful voice call out "We're home!" 

Hermione logged off.

A/N: Sorry if that was anti-climactic for those of you who kept begging for this scene to take place. I'm not sure that I pulled it off that well. Hum. O well, it's late now, you'll have to forgive me. And of course, REVIEW!! And don't get too comfortable with my having posted three chapters in two days. The next (oh will there be a next, BWAHAHAHA) may or may not be up tomorrow. I don't know. Whenever I get time, I suppose. My family was giving me weird looks today for being on so long, typing these up and reading other works. If anyone has any other pairs they want mentioned in the story, I take requests! Let me know what you want in here, at all, and chances are, I'll put it in. I'm a big softie. But, here's the thing, I don't know how the story's coming along. It sorta sucks. My fault, but I don't particularly care. Live. Soooo, I need YOU (pointed look), yes, you, who was singing huzzah earlier (you were, weren't you!?) to REVIEW! 

I've read most of the stories from the signed reviews, and generally I review, too, so there's an added bonus just for you!! Woo!! 

Wow, methinks I'm slaphappy. Interesting. 

REVIEW!!

(plz)

(-:


	4. Pairings, Paintings, and Fred in a Tree

Pairings, Paintings, and Fred in a Tree

Disclaimer: Is it really necessary? All it does is say that I own none of it, and * sniff * JK Rowling owns it all! Waaah! Just give me an inferiority complex, why don't you!?

A/N:Hum. I've only just realized that I've got A/N's before and after every chapter so far. Interesting. I'll save it, for now, and just put my lil' rant at the end…. Bwahahaha! (Be afraid, be very afraid. But find it in yourself to enjoy this lil' insanity somewhat, at the same time.) I love you all! 

O poo, one quick note, though: sorry, I'm screwing around with POV in here. Hope you can follow it… It's whoever's I want it to be, so nyah! * sticks out tongue *

Mrs. Granger walked over to the decidedly guilty looking group of six teenagers gathered in front of the still-glowing computer screen with a fearful expression on her face. Instantly, small glowing halos seemed to appear above each head as they turned on pale, but perfectly innocent (seemingly innocent, at any rate) smiles (or smirks, in the case of the twins). She walked over to her daughter and kissed the top of her head. It had been a very long day. Without even bothering to ask for an explanation as to why they had been on the computer for so long, and so late into the night (it was already 9:37!), she mumbled a distracted "goodnight" to the group and trudged upstairs to go to bed.

Mr. Granger followed her a moment afterward. Sitting on the bed next to her, he leaned over and whispered that the kids had looked guilty. Nodding, Mrs. Granger found the strength to get up again, get on her pajamas, and brush her teeth.

"Dear me, who knew a simple root canal could take so long?" Mrs. Granger yawned, getting into bed.

"Well, you must remember, young Scott did not want to be there," Mr. Granger replied with a chuckle.

"I would just love to know what happened here while we were gone…" was the last thing that Mrs. Granger found herself able to say as sleep engulfed her, tuning out the rest of whatever it was that her husband was saying…

When Hermione's parents disappeared up the stairway, the halos disappeared right along with her. 

"Mum didn't even care that we were on so late…" Hermione said in wonder.

"Hermione, it's nine forty!" Ron said, incredulous.

"They don't like me being on after eight."

"Well, let's go back on, come on, I want to finish, and see what happened with Ginny and Professor Snape after all!" George said, turning back to the computer with a wicked grin aimed at his sister.

"Erm, George, I don't think that would work very well…" Harry said, suddenly uncomfortable as he tried to ease Ginny's slumbering head off of his shoulder without waking her. Instead, he ended up being helped by Fred, and their combined effort pulled her out of her chair and onto the hard wood floor.

"Ow! What'd you do that for, Fred?" Ginny asked indignantly as she rubbed the now sore elbow that she had landed on. 

"It was Harry," Fred replied sullenly.

"Fine. Harry, what'd you do that for?" She asked, a blush creeping into her cheeks. It was obvious that she was trying to be as angry with him as she had been with Fred. It didn't work, and she ended up giggling again.

"Well, er, you fell asleep on me, and Fred tried to help you to…get off…" Harry replied with a very small sense of dignity.

"So it was all a dream then? The… the fan fiction?" Ginny asked hopefully, trying to ignore the fact that she'd fallen asleep on Harry.

Harry picked up on that, and, also eager to momentarily forget that, said, "No, it wasn't…It's real."

"And tomorrow we're going to find out about JK Rowling." Hermione said determinedly, pronouncing the author's last name as "Row-ling."

"Well, can't we at least read more of that stuff first? It is about us, anyway." Ron seemed stuck on trying to read more fan fiction, as he was in quite a lot of it.

"No!" Said Harry quickly, eager to avoid the stuff. Golly, the things these Muggles seemed to think he'd done! In one story, he had initiated a game of truth or dare that had gone horribly wrong…. Best not to think about that. Or of Ginny that way. Ron would kill him…Yet a faint color did appear in his cheeks…

The other five in the room stared at him, Ginny through half-closed eyes. With shrugs and winks (again, in the case of the twins), they all went back to talking amongst themselves about the ridiculous nature of fanfiction.net. Half asleep himself, Harry only caught snippets of conversation.

"My favorite pairing has to be Ginny and Professor Moody!"

"No, I rather liked the Fat Lady and Sir Cadogan."

"Krum and Sirius!"

"Buckbeak and Lupin!"

"McGonagall and Snape!"

"Percy and Neville!"

"You-Know-Who and Snape!"

"Malfoy and his daddy!"

"Lavender and Ron!"

"Hermione and Ron!" yelled George. He was rewarded by the redness of the two they had named.

"Harry and Ginny!" yelled Fred, trying to redden these two, also. It was in vain though, because Ginny was asleep, and Harry was pretending to be.

"Fred!" George scolded his brother, "we were talking about the ones that could never happen! They're already sleeping together!"

At that, both Harry and Ginny, who had apparently also been just pretending, sat bolt upright and glared at George while turning a deeper crimson than either Ron or Hermione.

"Ron, Hermione, Ginny…" Harry said conspiratorially, leaning in to his three scarlet friends.

They got the picture immediately. The four of them leapt up as one and proceeded to initiate a chase of the twins around the house. Harry and Ginny (who went scarlet at somehow ending up being split up with him) pursued Fred through the kitchen, out the door, and into the garden that Harry had been looking at earlier. When Fred scampered up a tree, laughing as a madman, Harry and Ginny were granted a clear view of the room they had just been in. 

Ron and Hermione had cornered George near the computer. He was holding up his hands in mock defeat. When Ron and Hermione turned to congratulate each other on their fine capture, George himself leapt up and pushed their heads together in what was intended as a kiss (intended by George, of course), but ended up being more the kind of head-butting that male rams normally found themselves in. Ginny giggled. 

The window was open, though, and George, upon hearing the giggle, walked to the window, and told Harry and Ginny not to be peeping toms. He slammed the curtains together in pseudo-indignation with a "harrumph." From the now closed window, the two could hear "there now, children, you have privacy. I'll just go to bed then, shall I?" and then, promptly, three pairs of feet running round to the living room where George's couch was. Just as promptly, a yell came down the stairs.

"I don't know what you think you're doing down there at this hour! Go to bed!" Mr. Granger.

Realizing they were still outside, Harry and Ginny walked back into the kitchen, leaving Fred in his tree. From this angle, they saw that the mashed potatoes of the night before hadn't all been cleaned up. In fact, there was a somewhat generous helping that seemed to be plastered to the back of the microwave. Harry poked it. It moved as no mashed potatoes that have been sitting out overnight ever should. Ginny laughed. They turned out of the kitchen, Harry trying to get thoughts of mashed potatoes out of his head, and began their ascent of the stairs. 

"Guess we'd better go to bed, then. Goodnight, Ginny," Harry said, desperately hoping that Ginny wouldn't turn pink again. She didn't…she did smile sweetly, though.

"Goodnight, Harry," she said softly.

As they reached their respective rooms, they glanced at each other somewhat shyly (what was that?? Harry wondered…I've never been shy around Ginny before!) and turned their respective doorknobs and went in, presumably to their respective beds. 

"Finally decided to leave my sister alone, did you?" Ron asked jokingly as Harry entered the boys' room. 

"Yeah, but it was hard to get my hands off her…" Harry said pseudo-seriously.

Ron threw a pillow at him.

"Hey, you never told me who you thought your favorite pairing was!" Ron suddenly realized.

"Hmm…I'd have to say… probably that one I read about you and Professor Snape." Harry replied, deep in thought. And laughter. There was much laughter coming from Harry.

"S…. S…. Prof…. Me!?" Ron sputtered, barely heard from the gales of laughter from Harry.

"Ack. Goodnight then." Harry said, deciding it would be best to get right to bed. It had really been a very…strange day.

First though, a bathroom visit. Bathroom…That gave him an idea.

"Hey Ron," Harry whispered needlessly. 

Ron had somehow managed to fall asleep on his cot already. Harry poked him. 

Ron yelped, turned over violently, and resumed snoring. Harry poked him again. Ron yelped. Harry poked him, beginning to get bored. He would have given up, but this idea was too… perfect for him to waste. Harry poked him again. Ron finally grunted his wakeup grunt and opened his eyes.

"What? What?"

"Hey Ron, I've got an idea….That bathroom connects the girls' room to ours…" Harry began in his needless whisper. Ron immediately brightened and leaned in as well…

In Hermione's room…

"Ginny, don't worry. I'm sure that Harry will like you fine. You don't have to be so embarrassed about it all the time. I mean…He blushed, too, you know." Hermione tried to reassure the younger girl as she brushed her red hair for her, smoothing it back into a French braid.

"Hermione, you don't know what you're talking about. You don't have to worry about these things. Ron's obviously in love with you. I mean, you should have seen him Monday…He was practically dancing round the house, and Mum didn't even have to yell at him once to pack." Ginny looked back, smiling, and saw Hermione turn lightly pink in the cheeks.

"Turn back around, Gin, or I won't be able to finish this well enough." Hermione tried to regain the sense of control she normally had over situations, but was grinning broadly and stupidly.

"Do you really think he likes me?" Ginny asked after a pause.

"Yes."

"Really?" 

"If he doesn't, he's a fool. And if he doesn't, he will."

"You think so?"  
"I know so. Done!"

"Thanks, 'Mione!" Ginny turned and gave her friend a hug.

"Any time. My turn!" Hermione and Ginny turned the other way, and Hermione gave her somewhat-less-bushy locks over to Ginny's care and styling.

"Twist or braid?"

"Hmm…"

"If that's what you're wondering, Ron likes twists."

"Er-"

"It's ok. A twist it is!"

Ginny worked in silence for a few minutes, giving them both some time to reflect on what could possibly happen with the guys they liked…but would never admit to anyone else, ever.

"Voila!"

"Right, let's check ourselves out!"

Both girls got up to their stiff legs --they had been sitting for a while-- and went across the room, with the intention of going to the bathroom to check out their hair, when suddenly—

"Booga booga booga!!!!!" 

"Ahh!" The girls only satisfied the boys with a scream because they were so surprised to see them standing in the bathroom. Well, maybe that wasn't the only reason…

"Ronald Weasley! What are you doing with my clippies….my clips all up in your hair!?" Hermione asked laughing, but trying to look outraged.

"Harry Potter! Why on earth do you have my face mask on!?" Ginny was also nearly doubled up with laughter, but knew that for posterity, she needed to look mad.

"This thick hair of mine * never * behaves, especially at night!" Ron mock-sighed.

"And me, oh, my complexion!" Harry laughed.

"Whoa, Hermione, I really like your hair…" Ron was suddenly struck dumb.

"Ginny…your hair looks…nice…braided…" Harry fished for words.

"Thanks," both girls coyly smiled as one, and turned to leave the bathroom.

Ron and Harry just looked at each other in surprise.

"What just happened?" Ron asked.

"I think my genius plan…backfired?" Harry was just as confused. What had happened? He'd told Ginny her hair looked nice. Nice! For goodness sakes, he paid a compliment to her, and all he could think of was _nice. Agh! She had looked genuinely pleased though…_

"Backfired…." Ron was lost in his own thoughts, and accidentally blurted out, "Gosh, I love when girls twist their hair!" Realizing what he'd said, he blushed and turned to the mirror, setting himself to removing Hermione's "clippies" from his hair.

Harry shrugged, then washed the sticky "Kiwi Mango Smoothie (guaranteed to zap that skin clear and smooth! Tested and recommended by Gilderoy Lockhart!)" mask off his face.

Once both boys were…well, un-girlified, they made their way back to their own room. They got into their respective beds and were very near nodding off when suddenly…

"Heeeeelp…..Someone get me out of here…..!" Came a low moan from somewhere outside.

"What the?" Ron asked as he and Harry sat straight up, ears pricked to hear if anything else came through their open window.

As a breeze ruffled the curtains, "It's going to rain! Hey! I was just kidding…. Harry? Ginny? RON! George!" 

Harry hit his head with an "ow" (the bruise from the wall two days ago was still there…smaller, but still there, and still painful) as he realized that Fred must still be in the tree.

Ginny and Hermione burst in from the bathroom that connected the two rooms, pale and wide-eyed.

"We were going to go to sleep, when all of the sudden-" Hermione began.

"It's not so funny!"

"Oh! It's Fred, isn't it?" Ginny asked Harry as the realization dawned on her.

"Fred?" asked Hermione and Ron.

"We, er, chased him up a tree." Ginny explained.

"Apparently he couldn't get down." Harry elaborated.

"Oh."

"I hope he doesn't wake my parents…" Hermione was worried again.

"Fred!" Harry yelled in a hoarse whisper through the open window, "Quiet! We'll…get you a ladder…"

"Right," Hermione said, and led the other three downstairs.

George was sleeping peacefully on the couch when they reached the living room. Harry poked him. He was getting quite good at poking sleeping Weasleys by this time, and George awoke at the first poke.

"Huh?"  
"C'mon, we need to get a ladder, and you need to help support it. Fred's stuck in a tree," Ginny threw him by means of explanation.

"Spiffing," he mumbled tiredly, but got up anyway, his blankets landing in a heap that would probably trip someone.

Yup. "Oof!" Ron landed heavily on the pile of blankets.

"Oh, come on," Hermione grabbed his hand and pulled him to his feet. By the looks of it, she was a lot stronger than she seemed, Harry thought.

"You two…" George laughed to himself.

Two whaps were immediately heard, along with a very George-ish "oof."

"C'mon," Harry whispered urgently; sounds could be heard from upstairs, unmistakably from the Grangers' bedroom.

The five of them trooped into the garage, where their next challenge was getting the big metal ladder out from where it was in the back of the garage, trapped by the station wagon Mr. Granger had described to Harry on Tuesday. George was all for just Summoning it, but Hermione reminded him that she would be the one in trouble for underage magic; it was her house. "Oh." 

Eventually, they all managed to work as a team and lift the ladder as silently as they could from its resting place. It wasn't all that silent really; they knocked down three aluminum garbage cans that clanged loudly to the ground and began to roll down the long driveway. Dropping the ladder, which also clanged (but did not roll), George rushed down the driveway and stopped two of the cans. Ron raced towards the third one, which was hitting every bump and audibly—very audibly—bouncing up and down the slope. He reached and-fell. The can clattered on. Ginny now ran toward it and stopped it. If she'd used that speed yesterday, Harry thought, she would have won the little race to the door. 

Hermione was still standing in front of the garage, a look of absolute horror on her face. She looked whiter than she had when they'd read that fan fiction. Ugh. Fan fiction. She kept glancing at Ginny and George, walking up the driveway with the garbage cans, at Ron, still on the ground, at Harry, just standing there, at the ladder on the ground, and at the tree that Fred was still in. Her mouth was hanging open and she looked something like she had when she'd been petrified almost three years ago.

"Come on, then," George said happily as he and Ginny put the three garbage cans back into place. Ron got up, brushing himself off.

The five turned back towards the tree, George and Ron carrying the heavy ladder between them. A red thing looked out at them, quite blurry in the dim light coming from the half moon. Harry knew it was Fred, and also, without needing to see properly, that he was wearing his cheeky grin. 

Getting Fred down was much easier than getting the ladder had been in itself. Fred was back on solid ground for the first time in four hours, and the restored six went back to the house, depositing the ladder back in the garage on the way.

Somehow, the whole incident had escaped the notice of the Grangers. Looking up, Harry was extremely relieved to see their window securely closed.

Lying in bed an hour later, Harry remembered the fan fiction. And JK Rowling, whoever she may be. With a yawn, he rolled over and mumbled tomorrow. Sleep beckoned him, and he rushed gratefully to it.

A/N: I know, I know, you read that whole story just to get to my author's note! Actually, that wouldn't be too bad of an excuse; this chapter accomplished nothing in the story, except showing the probably pairings. If you don't like them, tough. Don't flame! If you do, review and tell me! And, actually, just review! All of you! Please don't flame.

My apologies for this chapter. This whole story is rather random (at best), and so don't really expect too much to stick to the actual plot. When I got there, it just seemed like such a good idea to keep Fred in the tree. Then, I couldn't think of what Harry's brilliant bathroom plan could be. Live with what I put. It's bad, but hey, Kiwi Mango! Woo-hoo! I also had no idea how to end it, but having them randomly chase after clattering garbage cans seemed like a good idea at the time (the time being about 5 minutes ago right now…). Also, I know that they should have gotten caught, but I didn't have it in me to punish them. Again. But the mashed potatoes made a comeback! Woo! I know that's the only reason half of you are reading this. MASHED POTATOES. There's some entertainment value there….There must be. Or I wouldn't be laughing so hard. Maybe it was that early morning iced tea…Or just the early morning. I took the SAT (practise) today, and had to be at school at 8! On a Saturday! Ugh! Anyway, this'll do for my a/n. Enjoy, and REVIEW please!!! 

(-:

Side note/advertising for myself—I have another story "What Could Have Been" that has only 7 lonely reviews…I would love you forever if you could add to those… * hopeful grin * 


	5. 'This Should be Interesting...'

Discovering Fan Fiction

Discovering Fan Fiction

The Library

Disclaimer: You get it. Not mine. All of it belongs to….its owner. BWAHAHA! Here we go… if you've heard of it before, it's not mine. Rochelle, her mother, and Mrs. Fletcher are mine. I think that's it….

A/N: Sorry, this took a while. I have driver's ed (evil evil evil evil evil thing.) to deal with now, in addition to all of the daily junk, so the next may be a bit in the making as well. Also, I just got back from spring vacation in Arizona, so it's sorta been about a week…..ish…since the last one….sorry! J

The REVIEWS really inspired me to write more and faster! Don't ya just love subliminal messages? I do, I do!

"Muffin!……." Fred began again this morning in the octave-higher-than-normal voice, leaning over Harry and batting his eyelashes.

Harry hit him with a pillow. 

"Mf!" Startled, as Harry normally didn't have the coordination required to whap anyone with anything this early, Fred tumbled back onto Ron, who gave a muffled and unpleasantly surprised yelp.

"Muffin! How could you? You were my hero last night, saving me from that big, mean tree…." Fred began, ducking a second pillow (which hit Ron, who was still struggling against wakefulness).

"Stuff it, Fred." Harry was not a morning person.

"Grumpy…" Fred's voice began to take on its normal huskiness again.

"Heeey…." Ron had suddenly realized that Fred was still sitting on him. Well, sprawled out with his head poking up to smile disgustingly at Harry, at any rate. 

Standing up at an amazing rate considering that he had been sound asleep less than forty seconds ago, Ron looked down to where Fred had just fallen, no longer having Ron to support him.

"Ack. C'mon." 

Harry chuckled and joined Ron to troop downstairs for breakfast. They were halfway down when Harry realized that he wasn't wearing a shirt. The Granger's house really was rather warm. Especially at night, under the warm covers of the bed. And especially when one had spent the night rescuing another from a tree, while battling evil garbage cans at the same time. Anyway, the fact was, Harry had been about to go downstairs in front of… everyone, and he was only wearing pajama bottoms. 

Sprinting up the stairs, he nearly collided with Fred, who had just gotten himself untangled from the blankets he had fallen in when Ron had shoved him off. Fred chuckled, mumbled something under his breath, of which Harry caught "lady…naked…sister…parents…," before they had untangled their paths enough to go their own separate ways.

Fully dressed, Harry came downstairs a few minutes later. His first impression of the kitchen was two red heads on the table, and Fred trying to get Ron to apologize for dropping him earlier. Before one foot even hit the clean tile, a brown blur raced past him, knocking him into the wall for the second time since he'd arrived at her house.

"My parents are working all day. They'll be home at seven." Hermione said, hands on hips, with an air of impressiveness surrounding her. 

When no one else said anything to her obviously tremendously important declaration, Hermione let slip a small "harrumph," and continued.

"We're going to the library."

"Hermione, why….? … Oh!" Ron said, beginning his tirade on libraries before he remembered the mysterious author that knew the details of their lives.

"Breakfast, now. We leave in twelve minutes."

Coming away from the wall, Harry moved toward the cereal, watching as Hermione began poking George and Ginny, who were trying to catch up on sleep.

"Just get outta the tree, Fred….." George grumbled, trying to swat at Hermione.

Chuckling, Harry poured himself out a bowl of Blueberry Morning. 

Exactly twelve minutes later, Ginny and George were entirely awake, Fred had Duct Tape over his mouth, Ron had mussed up hair from when Fred had caught him, Hermione looked harassed and wronged, and Harry alone was smiling at the situation.

"Right. Let's go," Hermione said, regaining her leadership role as she began to lead the group off towards her local library.

Looking at the Weasleys, Harry watched their eyes widen in amazement. Suddenly it hit him: they had never really seen how Muggles lived! They were seeing all of this for the first time…parking meters, mail men, taxis, the buildings, everything. It astounded Harry that they had never seen any of this, ever. 

"What's that?" Ron whispered violently to Hermione as he grabbed her arm and held it in a death grip. He pointed shakily up to a helicopter.

As Hermione began to explain about aviation, Harry burst out laughing. He earned himself a reproving glance from Hermione and eye daggers from Ron, who hated showing his ignorance. Hermione flipped her hair over her shoulder and went back to explaining. 

Knowing all about helicopters from the books in Dudley's room, Harry tuned out and instead fell into step with Ginny.

"I like your hair in that braid," he said, by means of starting a conversation.

Ginny whipped around to face him, a look of the utmost disappointment on her face.

Watching her crestfallen features, Harry chanced a meek, "what?"

"You've taken off your mask. My mask. The face mask," Ginny stumbled, trying valiantly not to laugh. When Harry burst out laughing again, she couldn't keep up her stony expression. They walked on, still convulsed in giggles.

Behind them, George and Fred were whispering conspiratorially. When Harry looked back at them, they smiled their angelic smiles then leaned closer together, now snickering a bit. Reading his cue, Harry turned back around to face Ginny.

"So, do you think we'll find out what this is all about?" Ginny asked him.

"Huh…?" It took Harry a moment to remember their mission. "Oh, I hope so… I mean… Well, I'm not sure that I want to know, but now I have to know… You know?" 

"Oh, er, yes. Of course."

"Here we are!" Hermione said abruptly, cutting off Ron's questioning as to why the helicopter needed propellers. 

They were standing in front of a rather large building of gray stone. Ivy covered the façade and Harry could see immediately why Hermione had wanted to go here first. If the Hogwarts library had looked this inviting, he'd have been there as often as Hermione. The structure seemed to be holding out welcoming arms that radiated knowledge and warmth their way. Knowing now that they would surely find what they were looking for here, Harry raced forward a bit to rejoin the group that he had fallen behind from.

"Excuse me, Ms. Fletcher." Harry was a bit surprised that Hermione wasn't on a first name basis with the librarian.

"Ah, Hermione. I was wondering when you'd pay me a visit." Ms. Fletcher smiled warmly down at them from the front desk. 

While Hermione explained their quest for the author J.K. Rowling, without giving any particulars, of course, Harry glanced around the interior of the library. Rich scarlet carpeting stretched from the far edge of the desk to the opposite wall, across the library. The entry hall where they were standing had freshly waxed wooden flooring. Tall mahogany bookshelves covered the whole of the carpeted area. A rotunda was in the middle, a painting of cherubs in the starry black night sky on the ceiling. The entire building exuded a sense of surreal peace that was almost completely contradictory to their mission.

Harry's attention was taken from the eerily familiar bust of the library's founder, M. F. Vector, by the sudden movement from the desk. Ms. Fletcher was pointing down the main aisle, directing the group towards the books by Ms. Joanne Kathleen Rowling. 

'Moment of truth,' Harry thought as they started with some trepidation towards the described area.

"Children's!?" Ron declared, outraged upon reaching the section.

"Ron, be quiet!" Hermione hissed.

Harry's attention, however, was not on the squabbles of the two, but on a rather unflattering and inaccurate poster of…

"You. Harry…. That's you." Ginny said in a very small voice.

And it was, indeed. A poster of Harry playing Seeker, about to catch the Snitch. He was wearing what looked like an ugly maroon coat with Muggle clothing underneath. It took him a minute to realize that that 'ugly coat' was supposed to be his Quidditch robes. Imagine, Muggle clothing at Hogwarts!

Fred and George snorted outright at another poster, this one of "Fluffy," Ron, Hermione, Neville, and Harry in the forbidden corridor during their first year. In the poster, Fluffy had three heads, Ron had a bowler haircut and looked more like an orangutan than anything else, Hermione looked like a man, Neville looked fat, and Harry had a determined, even fierce expression on his face. Not to mention the fact that in every poster (there must have been twenty around the section!), Harry's thin lightning bolt shaped scar was represented as a horrible, fat, purple jagged line raging across his forehead. And of course, the glasses. Harry had gotten contacts in his second year, and even when he did wear glasses, they were thin, gold-framed spectacles that suited his features.

"Whoa…" Even the twins found it in themselves to be astounded by the collection. They were standing in front of a perfectly normal mirror that was made to look like the Mirror of Erised. Harry and Ron had told them about the Mirror, and they thought they were standing in front of the real thing (until they realized stuffed dragons, ugly figurines, and pitiful posters of Harry were not their hearts' desires).

"That'll be her, then." Ron was standing in front of a picture of J.K. Rowling. 

"Hmmm….." Hermione made her usual thoughtful noises as she examined the likeness of the author.

Harry wasn't interested that much in the picture…He was staring now at a collection of six books prominently displayed around a smaller "Mirror of Erised." 

"Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone…….Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets…..Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban…..Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire…..Quidditch Through the Ages……Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them……." Harry read the titles of the books, all by J.K. Rowling.

"Harry Potter and the dot dot dot seems to be a popular titling," Fred joked.

"Indeed…" Harry muttered, grabbing Quidditch Through the Ages and Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them and pulling up a chair in the reading section.

"Harry, we can check these all out, you know!" Hermione said, struggling under a mass of books.

Ron moved forward to help her with them, and instead ended up dropping the whole lot on the floor.

"Harry Potter _Collectibles?? J. K. Rowling: A Biography?? Understanding Harry Potter?? Hermione, what are these??" Ron asked, incredulous, as they scuttled around the floor picking up the books._

"I wanted to know everything about them, so I got them all. Now, let's go… We're getting strange looks…" Hermione said, looking around. Indeed, they were getting very odd looks from everyone else in the section.

"Mum, mum, look!" A little girl was pulling on her mother's sleeve, trying to yank her over towards Harry.

"Not now, Rochelle!" The mother looked back at the Stephen King novel that she was holding.

"Mu-uuuuum!" 

"Not now!"

"Yes, let's go!" Harry agreed, getting up quickly with his two books.

The six trudged toward the front desk, staggering under at least twenty books. Ms. Fletcher checked them out with a quizzical glance, but said nothing.

"Right. We've got the whole day to read these. I suggest that we read them out loud, so we're all on the same page. They only had three copies of each, so we can't each have our own…" Hermione said, slightly pale, but with a steady voice.

"This should be interesting," Ginny voiced the opinion of all of them as they neared the Granger's house.

A/N:I agree, it should be interesting. I'm sorry about this installment, I know I've been a while in the getting it out, but I had access to a computer for about ten minutes total on vacation. I only got to check my email, and not work on this…. I got half of this done before I left, but only half wasn't enough to put up as a chapter. This in itself was actually quite short, so again, I apologize. 

Yes, I know, "excuses, excuses!" 

And to that, nyah! * sticks out tongue again *


	6. The First of the First Book

Discovering Fan Fiction

Discovering Fan Fiction

The First of the First Book

Disclaimer: I do what the voices tell me. Therefore, it's all either J.K.'s, some other fanfic, or else the voices'. Mostly J. K.'s though… Now, leave me alone! *gets into fetal position, hands over ears*

A/N: Yes, there will be major spoilers for every book from now on. Too bad. Or good. Whatever, really. Also, I've changed a good many things. Live with it, don't flame me for it. You have been warned.

Dang, how much longer is this going to be!?!? Let's see…probably 4-5 more chapters after this one…one for each book, and possibly more, for the movie? I don't know. What have I gotten myself into?? I don't know…..

Yay, almost 100 reviews!! Keep 'em coming!!! Pleeeeeeeeeeeeze!!! (Luv you all!!!) I'm even on some favorites lists! *tear*

"Right…" Hermione said cautiously, surveying the books they had checked out of the library. 24 books. 24 books all related in some way or other to Harry Potter, Hogwarts, to magic at all. And in each book, everyone currently present at Hermione's house was mentioned.

"Where…. Where should we start?" Ron asked, just as cautiously. They all looked to Harry for guidance; he had the right to make the decision.

"I… I guess with this one?" He said nervously, holding up Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone. 

Silence reined supreme for a few heartbeats as everyone took in the cover, looking at the large gold lettering spelling out Harry's name with a flourish. They looked at the picture on the front, the Weasleys amazed that it didn't move. With a slightly trembling hand, Harry opened the front cover. The rest all gathered around him in a circle on the floor of Hermione's living room. They had only checked out one of each book, and had agreed that they'd read them aloud, taking turns.

"Mr. and Mrs. Dursley of number four, Privet Drive…" Harry began, astounded to see that this author knew of the Dursleys. 

Harry's tremulous reading was met with an electric silence, the air filled with tension between words or sentences.

When Harry got to the part about Hagrid on Sirius Black's motorcycle, there were gasps from Fred, George, and Ginny. Hermione and Ron (who, Harry noticed, had unconsciously clasped hands rather tightly) were sitting with their mouths seemingly stuck into an "o" shape. 

"McGonagall and Dumbledore gave you to them? On _purpose??" Ron asked, incredulous that his hero would willingly turn his best friend over to those wretched, cruel people. _

"I guess so…" Harry paused a moment, then continued with the last sentence of the first chapter, "…He couldn't know that at this very moment, people meeting in secret all over the country were holding up their glasses and saying in hushed voices: "To Harry Potter—the boy who lived!""

This declaration was met with a stunned silence. Ginny shifted uncomfortably, Ron and Hermione seemed to realize their hands were entwined, Harry was looking at the ceiling with a closed expression, and Fred and George's mouths were now stuck in the "o" shape.

"Why…why don't we take a break? I could do with some juice…" Hermione said. The general population murmured assent, but Harry picked up the book he had dropped down a moment ago and cleared his throat. Five half-standing figures sat back down.

"Chapter two, The Vanishing Glass." Harry read. "Nearly ten years had passed since the Dursleys had woken up to find their nephew on their front step, but Privet Drive had hardly changed at all…."

Another few words, and any thoughts of juice were completely forgotten as they listened to Harry's life at Privet Drive. Every couple sentences, Harry stopped and looked mysteriously at the book, as though daring it to tell him how it knew all of this. Other times, he said loudly, "that never happened."

"Honestly, I never slept in the broom cupboard. I always had that little bedroom. Dudley put his stuff in there anyway… My presence there never seemed to deter that… There were spiders in the room, but a broom cupboard? Really…." Harry looked half disgusted with the book by the time they reached the end of the second chapter.

"Do you want me to read it?" Hermione asked.

"That's all right. I… It's about me, so I guess I will." Harry said in a tone that clearly said "if you ask me again, I'll let you." 

"All right…"

"But, how about that juice now?" Harry obviously wanted a break from this book, even though he was only two chapters in.

"Sounds excellent."

As one, all six teenagers rose to their feet and trooped to the kitchen. When Hermione took the carton of orange-strawberry-banana juice from the refrigerator, Ron's already astonished face reached a new peak of astonishment.

"Wow," he managed. Hermione shot him a look. He closed his mouth, then immediately reopened it when Hermione gave him the first glass. "That's good!" He managed, dribbling a bit of juice down his chin.

Once they were all tired of juice, Harry suggested that they take a break from the book. They all agreed, silently hoping that when they returned, they'd find the books gone, left only in their imaginations.

"I wonder…" Fred began mysteriously. No one had a chance to ask what he wondered about, because right after he closed his mouth, he took off around to the back of the house and to the garden. 

By the time everyone else had reached the garden, Fred was nowhere in sight. 

"Guess not…" They heard from high above them.

"Fred!" Ginny yelled, in a tone that implied her brother was a complete dolt. "The tree again!?" 

"Just wanted to know if I could get out this time…by daylight, you know? Guess not, though. Where…. Where's the ladder?" He sounded about as apologetic as either of the twins could ever manage to sound.

"George, go get it," Hermione said. "The car's gone, it shouldn't cause a problem this time."

"No."

"What?"

"No. I say we leave him," George said, grinning broadly.

"George!!" Fred yelled from high above.

"Fred!!" George mimicked his brother.

"Both of you!" Hermione said, exasperated. "Ron, would you…?"

"Sure," Ron replied, ears turning pink as he turned towards the garage.

"It can't be that hard, Fred." George said, ignoring the fact that Ron was getting a ladder.

"You try it then, genius." Fred called.

"Fine!" And before anyone could stop him, or even open their mouths, George dashed up the tree. Silence…

"Hey, he's right."

"Hermione!" Ron was back, empty-handed. "The, uh, ladder's gone. And, your parents are home." Ron was out of breath.

"It's only five!" Hermione screeched, checking her watch.

"Hey! We're still up here!" Two voices sounded as one from the tree.

"Well… Well! That's your own fault, isn't it?" Hermione said severely, looking toward the barely visible garage. Gravel was now heard crunching under tires that obviously belonged to the station wagon.

"Inside, everyone!" Hermione hissed, herding Ginny, Harry, and Ron back into the kitchen.

They had just barely gotten inside before they heard, "Honey! Kids!" from Mrs. Granger. 

"In the kitchen, mum!" Hermione called, trying desperately to look normal.

"Hello. Things went so smoothly at the office that we managed to get out of there early! Isn't that lovely?" Mr. Granger had joined his wife in the kitchen.

"Where are Fred and George, dear?" Mrs. Granger asked, peering at the four kids in front of her.

"Crookshanks ran up the tree, Mrs. Granger. They both went to try and get him down, but we couldn't find the ladder to get them down. Crookshanks is fine, though." If anything, Harry was good at lying under pressure to get people out of trouble.

"Oh, the ladder. I saw it in the garage before we left. It was all dented, so I took it to the dump on the way to work. Wonder what happened to it…" Mr. Granger told them.

"Well, the twins are up in the tree in the garden presently." Ginny said.

"Why don't I just go borrow the Fischer's ladder, then? 'Mione, want to come?" Mr. Granger said, ushering his daughter off towards the neighbor's house.

"What did you kids do today, aside from rescuing Crookshanks from the tree? How'd he get out, anyway? I thought we'd locked him in the basement…" Mrs. Granger asked them kindly.

"George wanted to see the washing machine. Crookshanks darted up, between his legs, and ran outside." Ron finally contributed to the intricate web of fully believable lies.

"Oh."

"We went to the library." Ginny told her, eager to get the subject off the innocent cat.

"That's nice."

"It's a very nice library." Harry said. 

"I always liked to go there when I was Hermione's age, too. Peaceful, no?" Mrs. Granger was warming up to the conversation, which was just what Harry, Ron, and Ginny _didn't want. They wanted nothing more than to go to the living room, collect 24 books, and sprint upstairs to hide them. Mrs. Granger did not seem inclined to let them out of her sight._

"Very."

"Lovely."

"It was, er, nice."

"I thought so…" Mrs. Granger now had a far-off look in her eyes, the same any parent gets when reminiscing back to childhood.

Seeing their opportunity, the three immediately seized it.

"We checked out a few books, we should probably go clean them up, take them upstairs…" Harry said, looking perfectly innocent.

"Yes, dears, you do that," Mrs. Granger was now almost totally lost to memories.

Jetting into the living room, the three pairs of arms were soon full of books as they now sprinted upstairs. Dropping the books onto Hermione's bed, they could finally catch their breaths. At once, they all broke into snippets of what they'd thought would happen.

"I thought we were done for-"

"Can't believe they bought that-"

"Crookshanks!"

"They're still up there!"

"Ah!" Though, was the most common sound, as each released the stressful breaths they'd been holding in for far too long.

Harry was in Hermione's room now for the first time (face mask free and able to look around, that is). The walls were a pale pink, with small roses adorning the paint. Where some walls had borders, Hermione's had shelves with books. The nightstand next to her bed had shelves, which held all of her school things. Harry looked at them jealously, wishing he was allowed to keep his school books handy while on summer holiday. The bedspreads on the two twin beds were each pink with roses, complimenting the walls.

Realizing how hot he was, Harry strode across the room and opened the window. Sitting heavily on the window seat he'd had to lean across, he felt the cool wind on his face. 

"Yay!" he heard Fred (or George) yell as a clink sounded from below. 

Looking out, he saw Mr. Granger supporting a borrowed ladder, Hermione and her mother looking anxiously up into the tree. Fred stepped onto the ladder first and climbed down. George followed, bounding down each step with a decisive "yoink" sound. Mrs. Granger hugged each of them as soon as his feet touched the ground.

Unable to hear what else they said, Harry heard a new sound next to him, a sort of soft clawing on glass. Irritated slightly, he looked to see what it was and couldn't stifle the laughter.

"Harry?" Ginny asked, looking at him as though he'd lost his mind.

"Rita Skeeter!!" Harry managed to yelp amidst his laughter. He pointed a shaking hand (this time, shaking from laughter) at a glass jar supported by a white fluffy teddy bear next to him on the window seat.

The three of them crowded around it, peering into the angry little black beetle eyes of the inhabitant of the jar. The beetle clicked its tiny pincers menacingly, while wiggling its antennae fiercely. That only made them laugh more.

"I thought she said she was going to let it go!" Ron laughed.

"Would you trust her?"

"She's been in there since June!" Ginny said, somewhat alarmed.

"So?" Both Ron and Harry looked at her, sporting matching deadpan expressions.

A moment later, the door burst open and Hermione, Fred, and George entered. 

"Good, you've brought up the books! I thought…" Hermione began, trailing off as she saw what Harry was holding.

"I opened the window for a breeze, and this" he jabbed a finger toward Rita the beetle Skeeter "started making noises. Had to see what it was."

"Is that Rita Skeeter??" Fred and George asked as one. Their question was met with three amused nods and Hermione's small, "yes."

"We didn't believe Ron when he told us," George said, breaking into another trademark grin.

"Well, there she is…" Hermione said.

"Excellent!"

"Should we…continue with the books?" Ron voiced the question lingering in everyone's minds. 

"Not yet. Tomorrow. With my parents here…" Hermione said, casting a nervous glance toward the closed door of her room.

"Point taken," Ron answered.

It was impossible to tell whether Harry was glad or sad that they wouldn't be continuing reading these tonight.

"Dinner!" Fred yelled, sniffing the air.

"Fish!" George said, also sniffing.

"And…mashed potatoes!" Fred said, eyeing Ron, who grinned sheepishly.

"C'mon!" 

And it was a race downstairs.

A/N: Right. So, they'll finish book one in the next chapter……probably. Bwahahaa!!!

I'm really sorry that this is so short, and they only made it two chapters in. My deepest apologies. (-: My turn to grin sheepishly, I suppose…

Just so you know, it may or may not be a while for the next one. It won't be tomorrow. I have driver's ed and showchoir 'til late. Driver's Ed thru Thursday, but I leave for New York on Friday morning, early, for showchoir. So much fun, eh? I hope to get it up before I leave, but ya never know, it all depends on the voices! (and the muse)

REVIEW, please!!!

(see the little box…right…down….there…)

(-:


	7. Finishing Book One

Discovering Fan Fiction  
  
Finishing Book One  
  
  
  
  
Disclaimer: *cries*  
  
A/N: Heh... oops. I've been a bit behind, eh? Thanks for asking, NYC was fun! (We saw Aida! So good!!!) After that, I had my sister's wedding in Boston (I was a bridesmaid!), and other assorted junk. I also had my in-cars, to finish up driver's ed. I'm done now! Yay. Last week my best friend's grandmother died, and this week is the last of school. With all that together, it's equaled me not being able to update since April. So, just to appease the masses, I'm skipping studying for my history and Spanish exams that I have tomorrow. Just for you. So there's my excuse/apology.   
I'm going to have to finish this whole series before July. I'm going to Michigan June 15 (no computer), then I'm going to Britain (foreign exchange program) until mid-August. (I'm so excited!!!) I don't know if I'll have a computer there or not, so I'm just going to try and tie up these loose ends before I leave. Probably before I leave for Michigan. I'll try. Wish me luck!  
Enjoy!  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Dinner began as an enjoyable affair. Fish was the main course, lending credibility to George's sense of smell. Fred, having an identical nose, was dead-on about mashed potatoes being served. Ron was pink as they all sat around the table. He kept shooting furtive glances at the potatoes (Boston Market), as though they were going to stand up, do the cha-cha, and point and laugh at him for not being able to make them as well as Mrs. Granger could. Fortunately for the sanity of all gathered, they didn't.   
"What did you kids do today?" asked Mr. Granger, who hadn't heard the made up story about Crookshanks and the washing machine that Harry had made up for his wife.  
"Fred and I got stuck in a tree." George said.  
"I got a splinter in m' bum." Fred muttered, looking sour.  
"Must not have been very conducive to having fun," Mr. Granger observed with a smile in his words.  
At this point, Ginny couldn't keep from laughing. No one got to stare at her incredibly loud outburst for very long, because just then a very loud BOOM could be heard from the upper floor. As a thin stream of smoke snaked its way downstairs, visible outside the entrance to the dining area, Mrs. Granger began to mutter nonsense words that sounded incredibly like vulgarities in another language. Hermione faced the twins with an expression of horror chiseled on her face and her hands on her hips. George smacked himself just hard enough on the head to force himself out of the chair and onto the floor. He didn't seem to mind, but sat cross-legged on the linoleum, hand still to his forehead.   
"Forgot about the Wheezes!" He said. Fred looked at him blankly for a moment, then had the look of one with a light bulb just turned on. He helped his brother to his feet and the two of them sprinted out of the room and up the stairs, following the white mist lingering mid-air.  
"Wheezes?" Mr. Granger wheezed, squeezing his wife's hand and managing to look both confused and outraged.  
"Er," Harry tried.  
"That is," Ron also quailed under the glare of the father of one of his best friends.  
"The twins," Ginny gulped as the glare was directed at her.  
"Irresponsible!" Hermione erupted, "They promised to not make the things while they were here! ...Oops."   
"'Mione. What did you know about this?" Her father asked in a deadly quiet voice, accenting each word rather more than was necessary.  
"They, er, make these... gag candies... and sell them at school... It, um, I told them not to make them here. They said they wouldn't. Guess not..." Hermione must have found the pattern on the tablecloth captivating; her eyes never left on square of it, her finger never stopped tracing the delicate fleur-de-lis.   
"Probably Fred just told you that twice, made you think he was George, too. He does that." Ron said, trying to break the tension (even with the truth).  
"Dinner's over. You six are not to leave the house tomorrow. I'll have Mrs. Fischer phone us at the office if you do. Unfortunately, Hermione, your father and I have a meeting and eight procedures only in the morning. Our afternoon is also booked solid. We will not be home before ten. All mess will be cleaned up and you all will be in bed when we arrive home, even if we decide to come home at three in the afternoon. Is that clear?" Mrs. Granger managed to say in English. She looked from one guilty, nodding face to the next, all round the table. Satisfied, she sent them all upstairs, not to be seen again awake by the Grangers until the day after the next.  
Upstairs, the four of them gathered in Hermione's bedroom by silent agreement. The twins had not been seen since they'd run upstairs, and no one really wanted to see the guestroom quite yet, as the smoke was coming from around the frame of the closed door, seeping into the hallway.  
"So..." Ginny tentatively broke the silence in the room, all the while shooting nervous glances at the door that connected to the common bathroom. "Erm, should we continue with, with... those?" she asked, the last word just audible as the quietest whisper as she pointed an unsteady hand in the general direction of the stack of seemingly innocent books heaped haphazardly in the corner.  
"What about Gred and Forge?" Ron asked.  
"It's their own fault if they miss it," Hermione replied haughtily.  
"Well, they don't know most of it anyway, what's true of it," Harry said, ever the voice of reason.  
"Harry's right," Ginny said.  
"You always agree with Harry, Gin." Ron cracked a smile at his little sister and was rewarded with a pillow seemingly glued to his face. By the time Harry and Hermione peeled Ginny and the pillow off of Ron's (blue) face, the smoke had started to seep under the door to the bathroom. Whether Ginny's pinkness came from the struggle for strangling Ron or from flushed embarrassment from his words, no one could be sure.  
"Excellent!" George's voice stopped them all in whatever movement they'd been making as effectively as a Stun.  
"We've got it!" Fred echoed, standing triumphantly behind his twin, a piece of perfectly normal hard candy held in a fist raised jubilantly above his head.  
"Nooo...." A collective groan filled the room.  
"Yessssss!" Both Fred and George were quick to reply.  
"What's this one do?" Ron asked timidly.  
"Let's see!" Fred said, rushing up to Ginny, catching her by surprise, and tossing the brightly colored candy into her mouth. He held his hand over her lips so she wouldn't be able to spit it out. When he was sure that she had swallowed it, he let his hand up. Ginny looked at him, horrified, as though she knew what was coming. Three anxious and two excited faces stared at her expectantly.  
"Erk! Harry!" Ginny seemed to be fighting the Imperius curse, and losing pitifully. This became closer to a correct assumption when she got jerkily up to her feet, eyes wide and pleading, and walked over to Harry. Catching everyone but the twins by complete surprise, Ginny planted her lips firmly on Harry's. A full minute later, the two separated. They were both extremely pink, and Ginny found the carpet suddenly engrossing, and Harry stared at the wall, fighting down a grin.  
"It worked!" Fred and George laughed, high-fiving each other.   
"But..." George began, suddenly sober, "She only should have kissed him for a second. It wasn't supposed to be so long..."  
Ron looked about ready to punch Fred, George, and Harry, protective brother that he was. Hermione seemed to have forgotten all anger and instead looked gobsmacked, from one face to another.   
"We call them Inkiboots!" Fred explained.  
"Inkiboots?" Ron knew the routine well enough by now to know that he should just repeat the name of their new invention to have it explained.  
"Inkiboots! It's an 'inky' method to get someone to kiss you, and a sure way to get 'booted' out of somewhere!" George said dramatically.  
"Makes sense," Ginny mumbled, still horribly embarrassed.  
"The book! Let's read the book!" Harry said suddenly, wanting to get the attention off of the Inkiboot candies.  
"Sure!" Ginny was quick to agree, and soon everyone else was nodding agreeably, the twins nudging each other and smiling the smiles only they could smile.  
  
"'Chapter Three, The Letters From No One,'" Harry read. "'The Brazilian boa constrictor incident earned Harry his longest ever punishment. By the time he was let back out...'" and so on.   
Harry read clearly and loudly, to ensure that he wouldn't have to repeat anything-reading it once was bad enough. Hours later, his voice began to grow hoarse. Despite the sleepiness that was beginning to permeate the room, he refused to let up. He was determined to finish 'this blasted book' tonight.   
"'Chapter 17, The Man With Two Faces... It was Quirrel.'" Harry began the final chapter to the gasps of the twins, who hadn't known everything there was to know about Quirrel. They'd looked shaky and very sober when he'd read the last chapter, detailing everything that he, Ron, and Hermione had gone through to get him to the Mirror of Erised.   
By the time Harry finally closed the book, it was after midnight. For once, Hermione's parents hadn't cared about the late hour; they were probably still mad about the smoke (that had just within the last hour totally left the room) and the Wheezes. At least, Harry mused, they hadn't known about what this particular Wheeze-the Inkiboot-did. If they'd known... Well, Harry would just leave that to Mrs. Weasley, when she found out. She always found out about the plans of the twins, and this would likely not be an exception to the rule.   
"Wow, Harry..." Ginny said. She also hadn't known all the details. Making sure to travel the whole complexion spectrum in one day, she'd turned chalk-white when Harry had read the fight with Quirrel and Voldemort. She'd almost passed out, until Harry'd hurriedly read to where Quirrel couldn't touch him. Hermione had given her a small Chinese paper fan to keep air circulated.  
"So how much of that was true?" George asked, trying to get his normal cheeky inflection into the words.  
"Actually, all of the last two chapters. Except Fluffy. He only had two heads."  
"As though two heads are better than three," Ron muttered bitterly; the dog still gave him the shakes.  
"But, the Devil's Snare? The Chess set? The Potions logic puzzle? Even those keys? Those weren't made up?" Fred was incredulous.   
"No, no, I think she got those right," Harry said slowly, flipping through the book to find the exact passage.  
"Does it matter?" Ron asked halfheartedly.  
"Not reall-hey!" Hermione began as Interruption reared its ugly head, in the form of Crookshanks coming into the room and jumping neatly onto the bed, right into Ginny's back. For what seemed like the umpteenth time since they'd all arrived at the Grangers', Ginny was knocked down into Harry's lap. As she'd just been Inkiboot forced to kiss him, they were even pinker than they had when she'd been in his lap earlier. This time though, she didn't move right away, nor did anyone pay the least attention to the predicament. The other four were enraptured by the small glass jar that Crookshanks was batting around the floor and into numerous walls. Rita Skeeter's jar.   
"Crookshanks, no!"  
"Hermione, you still have the Unbreakable Charm on it, don't you?"   
"No, I took it off right before dinner! I was going to let her free today, before the whole Inkiboot scandal!"  
"Wha--? Oh, no, Crookshanks, no, don't do that!"  
Within seconds, four of their number (those who weren't Harry or Ginny) were on their feet, trying to discourage Crookshanks from the jar. Crookshanks, though, was only of the mind that it was some game those crazy humans were playing. He gave the jar a particularly hard bat, aiming at a wall, but Ron came running up to try to grab the cat before he-  
CRUNCH. The jar went right into Ron's bony shin. It cracked instantly, and the opportunistic Rita Skeeter seized her moment to Transfigure back to her grotesque human self. (Grotesque was an under statement-aside from her foul nature, she now looked and smelled particularly foul. Beetles aren't particularly clean creatures, so she hadn't changed robes or bathed since the day Hermione had caught her in the jar, in June)  
"My, but we are in trouble," Rita said, smiling horribly.  
"Us? Excuse me, Ms. Animagus, but I hardly think it would be us in trouble. You however, are illegal. Remember our deal?" Hermione said stiffly.  
"I-oh. That pesky little Animagus thing doesn't bother you, does it, dear? It's all to get the story for the readers. They have a right to know what's going on!" Silence. "Well, at least you're off the hook. It seems I was wrong anyway." Hermione nodded, expecting an apology. "Wrong about our resident hero's love life!" Letting out an excited squeal, Rita Skeeter grabbed a quill, a bottle of ink, and a piece of parchment from Hermione's nearby desk. "What's your name, dear?" she asked the horrendously scarlet Ginny at the same time as she attempted to Transfigure the regular eagle feather quill into a Quick Quotes Quill to jot everything down. Failing, she instead took to writing quickly the details of finding the 'incredibly lovely young red-haired charmer' on the 'hero of many, The Boy Who Lived, Harry Potter's lap,' in a 'declaration of their young love,' and the 'statement of the two hearts joined as one.' Ginny leapt out of Harry's lap faster than could be seen by the naked eye. She resumed her spot on the bed, eyeing Crookshanks warily.  
Hermione leaned over Rita's shoulder and laughed outright, reading the description. It certainly had been nothing like this for her; she'd been made out to be a wretch to "be with" Harry. As only she, Harry, and Rita didn't have red hair, Rita must have made the assumption that the other three boys in the room were Ginny's brothers. That type of scandal was unheard of, and Rita decided to have Harry finally find his true love (in her column).  
"Let's see. Red hair is Weasley. So... I remember hearing about the girl one. Ginger, was it?"   
"Ginny," George said before anyone could stop him.  
"Ah! Perfect! 'Hero Finds Love in Miss Ginny Weasley!' The Daily Prophet readers will love this! ... Now, what about you, dear? They'll love to hear how the Krum-Potter-er, Ranger? Whatever, how that triangle worked out. (Oh, Granger! Thank you...twin one) Which of them is it, then?" she asked, gesturing to Fred, George, and Ron. George raised Ron's hand. "Thank you, twin two. His name? Ron. Excellent. 'Friend and false lover, (what is it? Hermione, thank you, one) Hermione Ranger (what, two? Oh!) Hermione Granger has also found love in one Mr. Ron Weasley.' Seems Weasley love is blossoming! Oh, perfect!" she read aloud as she wrote: "Weasley love blossoming with hero and friend."  
Crookshanks looked up cat-evilly and cat-grinned, walking out of the room. His tail swished as if to say, "my work here is done." Perhaps it was his revenge for being blamed for getting George and Fred in the tree that afternoon. No one noticed his departure.   
"What do we have here?" Rita squealed, reaching for a book that no one had noticed was still out. "Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone? Harry! You already have someone writing about you? Why that's-"  
"A gag gift we gave him!" George interrupted, motioning discreetly for the others to hide the other 23 books as he kept Rita occupied.   
"Yes, we gave him that as a memento of first year! Nothing written in it, just did the cover, haven't charmed it yet to move..." Fred said smoothly, taking the book from the overzealous Rita and waving it lazily around, out of reach of her interested hands.   
"Well, if there's nothing written in it..." Rita said dispiritedly.  
"Nothing yet!" George said, hopping in front of her to keep her interest as the last of the books were kicked under the beds.   
"Well, then. Cute gift." Rita said, crestfallen.  
Ginny yawned widely. It was this that made everyone else realize how tired they all were. Even Rita joined in yawning.   
"Um, Rita... Why don't you stay here, on the floor? I'll find some blankets... Can't have you wandering amidst the Muggles like... that at one in the morning. ONE IN THE MORNING!??!?" Hermione had suddenly realized the time.  
"That'll do nicely, thank you," Rita said, ignoring the outburst. Clearly, she was used to working with volatile people.   
As the boys piled out of the room (George tiptoeing quietly downstairs to the couch), no one saw Rita's sneaky smile. She'd seen them kicking books under the beds. If only she weren't so tired, she'd just wait... until... *yawn* ...they were... asleep...  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
A/N: I'm REALLY sorry A. that this has taken soooo long, and B. that it's so short. It's taken me parts of the day (I didn't do it all in one stretch like I normally write, but spaced it over the greater part of the afternoon) which is why it may not make much sense in parts. I'm really tired right now; I don't know how Rita came to be an actual character in this. Wasn't planning on that one. I may just have them read a few books next chapter. I must finish this soon!! I'm so sorry again that this took so long. The next won't be more than a week, promise. It can't be! This will probably end near 10 chapters, maybe 11. Not much more than that. I leave next Friday, for goodness sakes! Ack. The life of a fanfic author... (or something)  
  
Please review and be nice!  
  
(-:  
  
  
3,  
~*Aurora*~  
  
(luv you all!!)  



	8. Code Name: Cow

Discovering Fan Fiction  
Aurora de la Noche  
  
Chapter 8  
Code Name: Cow  
  
  
  
A/N: Longer than I'd meant for this to take to be out, but less than a week, so we should all be happy. Except me. Michigan calls in less than a week. Please give me ideas so I can get these out faster! I need help! (In more ways than one, but we won't talk about those all now...)  
  
Disclaimer: Hmm. It's normally above my A/N. *ahem* Still not mine.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"You don't think she saw the books, do you?" Ron asked an equally sleepless Harry. Neither boy had been able to fall asleep when they'd left Hermione's room, although Fred's snores would make anyone passing by the room think an army just returned from battle had collapsed within.   
"No, I... Hold on." Harry replied, taking a moment to stick a small, lacy pillow in Fred's open frog-mouth. "Anyway, even if she did, what could she do? We know she's an Animagus and all."  
"Like that'd stop her."  
"True, true."  
"We should hide the books."  
"Now?"  
"Yeah!"  
"She doesn't strike me as the type to... go to sleep right away, especially if she did see the books."  
"All the more reason to go in."  
"What are we going to do, go in there, and if she's awake say 'Oh, hi Rita. I think I left my fuzzy bunny in here, and I can't sleep without it, so I'll just be a minute. Fuzz may have slipped into one of these books. Let's take these 24, eh Ron, so we can sort through them to see if Fuzz got in there'?"  
"Could work."  
  
~*~  
  
"Oh, hi Rita. I think I left my fuzzy bunny in here, and I can't sleep without it, so I'll just be a minute. Fuzz may have slipped into one of these books. Let's take these 24, eh, Ron, so we can sort through them to see if Fuzz got in there." Harry said while stepping over the half-awake Rita Skeeter.  
"Mfmglishnef. Just get it quietly..." Were the 'coherent' words that she managed before slipping back to dreamland. "Stan! Stan! That's the way... yeah, drive that *bus* honey!"  
"You don't think she means that guy who drives the Knight Bus, do you?" Ron asked Harry, disgusted.  
"Ugh... If she has read the books, we can use that against her, return blackmail? She wouldn't want *that* to get out any more than we want these (bleeping) books to get out."  
"That'd be enough to silence anyone, I think." Had Harry been able to see Ron's face, it would have been very green.  
Gathering up the books as quietly and as painstakingly as possible, being sure to have all 24, and recounting a few times, they tiptoed cautiously back to the bathroom door. They'd nearly made it when  
"Ron! Is that you?" Ginny whispered violently.  
"Yeah, what, Gin?" Ron asked, holding his toe (which had just hit the post of Ginny's bed with an audible thwack) and picking up the three books he'd just dropped. Leaning over to pick those up, he dropped four more, and when he leant farther over, the rest of the books in his hands fell out, some onto Ginny's bed and some onto the floor.   
Ginny picked up a book and read the cover. Before she could ask her brother what he was doing with 'Harry's' books, Harry reappeared in the bathroom door.   
"Ron!" he hissed, seeing the books scattered about. "C'mon, we've got to get these out of here! ...Oh, hi, Gin."  
"Harry? Ron? What are you guys doing?"  
"We think Rita saw the books, so we're trying to get them all out of here. Trying," Harry wheezed, "being the operative word."  
"Here, I'll help." Ginny picked up some of the books, got out of bed (untangling some sheets that had wound around her, pinning her nightdress to her legs) and lugged them over to the bathroom door. Harry didn't move to get out of the doorway.  
"Harry? Can I get through, please?"  
Harry made no response. Ron, though, yelped.  
"Ginny! Is that what you sleep in?"  
"Oh..." A noise of understanding, a heap of books (and some in the air), and a thump later, and Ginny was back in bed, under her covers with not even her head showing.  
Ron picked up the books again and knocked Harry on the arm, forcing him back into the bathroom and then into the guestroom.  
"Yech! That's what my little sister sleeps in!"  
"It sure is..."  
"Oops, musta slipped. Sorry..." Ron said as Harry picked "Prices on Harry Potter Collectibles" off his face.  
"Yeah."  
"Yeah!" Fred yelled suddenly, chucking multitudes of water balloons at both Harry and Ron.  
"Fred!" Came two simultaneous yells, then at the same time:  
"I thought you were asleep!"  
"Where'd you get water balloons?"  
"I was, and I made them earlier."  
"You realize, Fred, that you have to sleep in the same bed as I? And now, thanks, I'm soaking?" Harry said deliberately.  
"Oh, yeah.... Dam...p... Oh wait! Ha! I don't!" Fred jerked out of bed and skipped merrily into the bathroom, lightly slamming the door behind him.  
"The girls' room?" Ron asked.  
"The bathroom?" Harry asked.  
"Let's check..." Cautiously from both, at more or less the same time.  
When they got into the bathroom, they saw Fred's leg sticking out from the shower curtain. Silently pulling it back, the rest of Fred was exposed. His head was resting on a large lacy pillow under the faucet, one of his legs was over the side of the bathtub, and his other leg was hugged to his chest by both arms. Combining that all with the fact that his mouth was wide open and he was snoring, and the end result was something less than flattering. Silent agreement again. Ron and Harry looked at each other, nodded once, and were back in the guest room, each rifling through his belongings. At the same time, they straightened up, each holding his prize: a camera.  
Back in the bathroom, a silent countdown had begun. Holding up three fingers, Harry looked to Ron for the nod. It came. Two fingers, one. Flash! Amazingly, Fred didn't wake up. Harry had a Polaroid, and Ron was astounded to see the picture come out. Harry quickly took four more pictures and shoved them all into the pocket of his pyjamas. One more nod, and Ron's hand lay on a metal tap with a large "C" on it.   
After one large turn and a quick yank of a pillow on Harry's part, Fred was once again awake. Awake, drenched, laughing, and angry. Dangerous combination on the part of a Weasley, especially one of the twins. The only things more dangerous were both twins that way or Ginny alone that way.   
The sight that followed was thankfully gone unnoticed by any other occupants of the house, save Crookshanks. Three soaking boys, two with ginger heads, one with pitch, chasing about the house, seemingly even they unaware of who was leading the chase any more. Three minutes gave way to eight, and fifteen followed with all occupants of the house blissfully unaware of how long this mayhem lasted. Eventually, somewhere near three-thirty in the morning, three dry boys, two with carrot heads, one with jet, were sound asleep in various stages across the carpet of the guest room at Chez Granger. One carrot haired boy lay sprawled across the floor with one foot somehow propped up on the large bed that dominated the room. Another foot (nearly impossible to figure out whose) was half in the bathroom. A hand with a small cut across the palm lay open on a cot. Snores punctuated the silence.  
  
~*~  
  
"Where are they!?" Hermione screeched quietly to Ginny.  
"What? The books?"  
"No. My wand and quill... Yes, the books!"  
"Oh. Harry and Ron took them last night. They reckoned that she" jabbing a finger towards the sleeping figure of Rita Skeeter "saw them. Thought it'd be safer to hide them somewhere where she wasn't sleeping."  
"Good."  
"Just tell Ernie you're busy!" Rita screamed and sat up suddenly, eyes bugging out all over. She looked around at the two girls as though she'd never seen anything quite like them.  
"Ernie?" Ginny asked, arching an eyebrow significantly (and impressively).  
"Must have just been a dream... Yes, a dream. Now, dear, could we get some breakfast? That would be lovely!"  
"You stay up here, Ms. Skeeter. My family still doesn't know you're here. It would be best not to shock them anymore, especially right now. Why don't you take a shower? You know how Muggle showers work, I assume?" Hermione used a voice somewhere between bossy and respect that she always used with adults. Some annoyance and patronizing were thrown into the mix too, for good measure.  
"I do know. Do you happen to have any robes that would fit me?"  
"Actually, all of mine are being laundered presently. You'll have to wear Muggle clothes, for now at least."  
"Muggle... Me? Rita Skeeter, dress like a Muggle?" At a look from Hermione, she quelled a bit. "I suppose if the Boy Who Lived can wear Muggle clothes, they can't be too bad. And you, dears..."  
The rest of whatever tirade or speech she'd been beginning was left to be heard by the empty room and the now closed door as Hermione and Ginny made their way across the bathroom to get the boys up. Ginny stopped dead a few feet before the door, halted by a foot stretched leisurely across the threshold. Hermione almost knocked into her friend's back, but stopped herself just in time.   
"What...happened?" Hermione managed.  
"I..." Words escaped Ginny as she surveyed the scene. There seemed to be water spots randomly across the floor, and a large circle of water that had dried into a stain on the wall next to the headboard of the bed. The boys were in the exact same positions they'd been in when they'd fallen asleep, but the girls couldn't have known that. The 24 Harry Potter books were, luckily, stacked between the cot and the wall, and seemed unaffected by any water damage.   
Kicking Fred's foot out of her way, Ginny walked into the room, followed by Hermione. Pushing Ron's foot unceremoniously off the bed, Ginny sat and looked at the scene. A full minute passed before she began laughing. Hermione was struck by the ridiculous nature of the scene a minute after, and joined in giggling.   
Ron was the first to wake. Whether it was by the giggling or his foot falling on top of his other foot, it didn't matter.   
"Oy, Harry, Fred, gerrup!" Ron called to them, as the girls were both lying on the bed now, giggling and unable to speak.  
"What?" Harry asked, awake at once. As he reached down to pick his glasses up from where they'd fallen next to the cot his hand was resting on, his pocket rustled. A smile crept its way onto his face, and in a flash he was next to Ron, halting the water balloon in his hand that was to wake Fred. Ron got the picture (A/N: yes, that's bad, but sorry :)) at once. In Harry's hand were five pictures, all of Fred in his angel's repose in the bathtub.   
Holding them like a poker hand, and making a poker face, he said solemnly, "pick a card, any card, I won't look."  
Ginny, Hermione, and Ron each took one and laughed for a good five minutes. That woke Fred up, but no one would let him see why.   
The sounds of the door closing and the shower starting closed Fred's mouth. He looked toward the bathroom and mouthed, 'Rita?' Three nods answered him.   
"Let's go get George then."  
"I think I'll stay up here a minute," Harry whispered, suddenly suspicious of the instantaneous shower and door. It was too fast; no one could get into the shower so quickly. With Rita Skeeter, every action was suspicious and most fears were not unfounded.   
The others nodded, and Hermione tossed him a smile and a "we'll be right back" over her shoulder. He nodded and waved them out of the room.  
The door had barely clicked shut when the bathroom door was whipped open. Rita stood there, still dressed in her stanky robes from the day before, a look of shock on her face. Harry waved merrily at her.  
"I thought the clothes Hermione gave you were in the other room?"  
"I...thought this door led to her room. I got so turned around in there... Why don't I just go now?"  
"Sure."  
With one last evil look exchanged between Rita and Harry, she left again. While he sat on the bed, contemplating what could happen if she read the books, the other door reopened and his friends reappeared, this time with George. By the look on George's face, all had been explained to him.   
"We need to do something about Rita. We can't read book two, or any of them, while she's still here." Harry cut right to the chase.  
"We could report her to the Ministry."  
"They don't know she's an Animagus."  
"Dumbledore might!"  
"Hey..."  
Five more minutes of debate, and it was agreed that they would owl Professor Dumbledore on what to do about Rita Skeeter.  
Another twenty minutes, and they were watching Hedwig flying out over roofs towards Hogwarts.   
"Hey, I feel just like the Mad Muggle!" Ron said for the ninth time in as many minutes, alluding to his favorite comic book.   
"Shut up, Ron!" George said, yet again.   
"I know!" Ron went on, ignoring his brother's interruption, "We'll call it Code Name: Cow. Get rid of Rita Skeeter!"  
"Operation Cow?" Fred asked with a funny expression.  
"I like it!" George said, taking his cue from his twin, wearing the same expression.  
"Agreed. Code Name: Cow is now operating!" Ginny said after a nod from Hermione.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
A/N: Short. Sorry. I need to finish this! Ahh, they're not even on book two yet! Next time, next time. Might even be today, but don't count on it. Have fun everyone, and please review... I need ideas. (The spontaneous water balloons came from my friend's graduation party I went to yesterday :))  
  
(-:  



	9. Prisoner of Secrets, Chamber of Azkaban,...

Discovering Fan Fiction  
Aurora de la Noche  
  
  
Prisoner of Secrets, Chamber of Azkaban, Killing off Rita  
  
  
  
  
Disclaimer: :p  
  
A/N: Yeah. OK, last chapter sucked, but this one will, too! It's nearly one AM after my sister's graduation party, so naturally it'll be messed up. Maybe that should be my disclaimer. Maybe. O well. Soon enough, fatigue will set in. Or all of the caffeine I consumed today. Whatever, really. Just don't expect too much from this chapter. Except laughs, finishing books two and three (!) and more water balloons, due to popular (the voices count as popular, so suck it) request. And, yes, sorry, H/G fluff and tears. Live with it. Hey, let me live, it's not D/H! *ducks fruit thrown by D/H shippers*  
O, and have I ever mentioned how I hate uploading to ffnet?? I despise it, really. First I have to save the story on Word. That's where I do it, and I save it so my evil computer doesn't eat it up and crash. Then I save as text so ffnet will like it. But no, it will never upload the first time, that would be too easy, so I have to save it as a web page which also never works. Then I have to again attempt uploading the text one, which of course works the second time, but no, not the first. That's why all my stories come out looking so screwed up. They don't look that bad to me, until I look at them on ffnet. Evil thing, that. Maybe I need a beta-reader, too. I've noticed that some of my grammar sucks. Any volunteers? Anyone? (I hate those crickets that chirp in the background!)   
Wow. This'll be longer than the story. Hope not. I'm going to make this one as long as I can before I crash and die here at my computer. Have fun. Be young. I hate Pepsi.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"Code Name: Cow." Professor Dumbledore mused to himself as he read and re-read the very odd letter he'd received from Messrs. Potter, Weasley, Weasley, Weasley, and Misses Granger and Weasley. "Original, I'll give them that. Now what to do about it...?"  
Three hours later, the professor was still sitting in his lonely study at Hogwarts when his phoenix, Fawkes, decided to pay a visit. Fawkes had been out picking up girls again. Or trying to. That was the one thing about phoenixes. During every life, they had to go through puberty. Every so often, between every burning, they had to try to find a new mate. Dumbledore didn't know whether it was good or bad that phoenixes were becoming more and more difficult to find. On one hand, he didn't have any babies to take care of (give to Hagrid to raise), but then it was always sad to see a species in decline.   
Seeing Fawkes reminded him of something from how many years ago...? Three years, now. Three plus years ago, during Mr. Harry Potter's second year at the prestigious school. Fawkes had brought him Godric's sword and...the Sorting Hat! Yes, the Sorting Hat could help!  
"Bonnet bothering your bee, Albus?"  
"Well...you understand. What do I do about Rita Skeeter?"  
"Kill her."  
"Gryffindor, Hat, I was in Gryffindor."  
"Yes, but still. A good solution is only so obvious."  
"That's too like Salazar for me. Can't we...be less violent?"  
"You're no fun anymore, Albie."  
"Don't make me."  
"Albie."  
"Now you've done it."  
"Albie!"  
"Sortie."  
"No! Albie! Fine. No more advice for you!"  
"Sortie...!"  
"You're acting like a five year old."  
"You're acting like a jester's hat."  
"That's hitting below the brim."  
"Help on Code Name: Cow?"  
"Kill her, Albus. That is the only logical answer. Even Godric killed when it was necessary."  
"True, but..."  
"I don't like it either, Albus. But we do what we must."  
"I suppose."  
"Now. Don't suppose you could dust my shelf, could you?"  
  
~*~  
  
"What's Dumbledore's letter say?" Ron asked for the fifth time in as many minutes, hovering over Harry's shoulder like a moth to a streetlight.  
"Um. Hmmm. Ron, do Hit-Wizards always, er, kill their targets?"  
"Always."  
"Better say bye to Rita."  
"You're kidding."  
"Can't tell you how I wish I was."  
"Harry! Hedwig come back yet?" Fred and George bounded into the room, followed closely by Hermione and Ginny, who looked somewhat put off from the twins at the moment.  
"Yeah..."  
"Well?"  
"It seems that Dumbledore's been advised to have Rita killed off."  
"Really?"  
"Don't sound so excited!"  
"Maybe they'll just take her memory and have her live as a Muggle?"  
"Do you really think they'd do that?"   
"Sarcasm doesn't fit you, Harry m'boy."  
"Nor does that dress to you."  
"Oh. Fred told me it was flattering."  
"You're his twin. You should know when he's lying."  
"It is very comfortable. I see what that old wizard was saying last summer..."  
"George, you're scaring me."  
"Don't worry, Ginny, you'll get your dress back."  
"Don't think I want it anymore, thanks."  
"It was your favorite."  
"Was."  
"Gin!"  
"George!"  
"Hush!"  
"Huh?"  
"Do you want to know how Code Name: Cow is coming to a close or no?"  
"Yes."  
"Fine. Um. We have to get Rita in a Muggle cab and have her... dang."  
"Where, Harry?"  
"Harrod's."  
"What? Harrod's? Why?"  
"I'll bet you Dumbledore picked it."  
"How do we get her there?"  
"What happens from there?"  
"Why is George wearing Ginny's dress?"  
"Long story."  
"Ditto."  
"Well... I suppose we could tell her the Harry books are real-"  
"They are."  
"Hush. We could tell her she can buy them at Harrod's and the only way to get there is by Muggle Cab."  
"Think she'd buy it?"  
"The book?"  
"The story, Fred!"  
"Oh. Worth a try, I say."  
"Guess so."  
"Want to read book two first?"  
"Sure!"  
  
~*~  
  
"Chapter one: The Worst Birthday...."  
Although they began the book at around ten in the morning, they didn't finish until nearly two in the afternoon. This was partly due to everyone's reluctance to believe that it was real, partly due to Rita entering the room at inopportune times, and partly due to the length of the book, although not really that impressive in size. By the time they finished it, everyone was giving the book odd looks, and Ginny looked ready to cry.   
"Well. Let's see. It seems that she got most of it right." Harry said quietly. The Chamber of Secrets was not the most uplifting novel of all time, and with the parts that two of their number had played in it, it was even more depressing. Harry had recoiled visibly during the bit on the snake in the wizard's duel. Ginny hugged her knees to her chest and rocked slightly from the first attack nearly straight through to the end. Ron and Hermione had taken turns patting her on the back or giving her uplifting looks during it all, and even the twins seemed less inclined to pick on her, though George was still wearing her dress. Harry, even though he was reading, still paused a moment to smile at Ginny; that smile had more effect than did any amount of Hermione's hugs.  
"For one thing, we weren't in the wardrobe. We were sitting on the floor under the couch when they, um, told the teachers, um, about Ginny. And Tom's journal, it was scarlet. Let's see. Dobby... No, she got Dobby right. Eerily right. How does she know? And, let's see... The basilisk...Never mind. Let's just leave it at that?"  
No one could really reply to anything Harry said, so they let the silence linger. Lumps had found their way into every throat. The trials of the second year hung uncomfortably real for the Weasleys in the room, though the twins did laugh at hearing the account of the flying car. Ron even managed to crack a smile at all that his wand did that year.  
"Right, then," George said, unable to take the serious nature of the moment any longer. "I've got to get out of this dress! It's fine for a while, but you know... I want my pants. What do you know, I've gotten used to dressing like a Muggle... Scary. Maybe I should wear robes from now on. Well, I mean, I will, but..."  
"Quiet time, Georgie," Fred laughed. The sound of laughter seemed to visibly brighten the air in the room.  
"Let's find Rita and get her in a cab. Dumbledore wants her at Harrod's at five." Hermione stood up and dusted off her capris.   
"I think I'll just stay here..." Ginny said almost inaudibly. When everyone else got up after nodding at her, Ginny looked pleadingly at Harry.  
"Why don't I keep you company, Gin?" The small nod and brief smile were enough to let everyone know that this was right. The others gave one more somber look at Ginny and Harry, then piled out of the room to get Rita her final cab.  
"Gin?"  
"Just...sit with me a minute, will you? Please?" Ginny's normally subdued voice was almost silent in its pleading. Uncomfortable at letting the moment pass while sitting on nearly opposite walls, Harry scooted over and sat next to Ginny, both of them on the floor leaning against one bed. When silent tears began to course over Ginny's cheeks, Harry put a not quite brotherly arm around her, pulling her against his chest. Normally, Harry would have been embarrassed by a tearful hug, but now it just seemed right. He let her tears wet his shoulder, let her hug him as tightly as she needed, even went so far as to lean his cheek on her head and pat her hair gently.   
After a while, Harry began to suspect that Ginny had fallen asleep on him. His right arm was beginning to fall asleep from where she was supported on it, so he carefully shifted her more to the left. When he did move, he noticed that she was not asleep after all, and indeed looked like the 'moment' had done her some good; a smile was on her face.  
"You know... this is the first time we've ever really been alone, you and I." Her voice seemed to come from nowhere and from everywhere, startling him from thoughts which were actually along the same line.  
"You're right, I think."  
"You... you don't mind do you?" This seemed to be a question of nerves for her, for he could see that she feared the answer and that she visibly braced herself for an "I'd rather be with Ron and Hermione, but you're a cute kid" answer.  
"Gin, I've never minded being with you. Least of all now. I..." Not quite knowing what else he would say, and not trusting himself to find out, Harry let himself trail off at the end of words that brought back the sweet smile to Ginny's face.  
"Thanks, Harry."  
"For what?"  
"For sitting with me. I know you'd rather be with Ron or Hermione, or even the twins. I... Thank you."  
"Gin, don't think that. I... You know, we have to get to know each other better. I've known who you are, but I don't really know you. Nor, I think, do you know me..."  
"I'd like to."  
"Me too."  
"You'd like to know yourself?" She giggled.  
"Well... yes. You, too. I'd really like to get to know you."  
"I... Would you like to go to Hogsmeade with me first weekend we can?" Ginny seemed startled by the question that passed her lips and looked embarrassed.   
"Love to." If she'd been startled before, she was struck dumb now.  
"Really?"  
"Really."  
Ginny and Harry smiled at each other once more and let the comfortable silence hang in the air. A watch beeped to let them know that it was three o'clock.  
"Got her!" George surprised both of them by instantly appearing at the door, wearing a grin that didn't seem able to fit through the doorframe.  
"Rita?" Harry grinned.  
"Yup." Ron appeared behind his brother (who was now wearing a pair of Muggle jeans and a green jumper (same one he'd worn that day so long ago when he'd learned how to work the shower)) wearing an almost identical grin.  
"Spiffy."  
"Hit-wizards are supposed to be there at six." Fred said from somewhere behind Ron.  
"Honestly, move! It's someone's life we're dealing with here, you guys!" Hermione exclaimed haughtily. "Maybe we should have owled Dumbledore and asked for an alternative plan.  
"Even Godric Gryffindor killed when necessary, Hermione. Wasn't that in Hogwarts, a History?" Harry surprised even himself with that. Ginny smiled at him.  
"Well. Lunch?" Hermione seemed at a loss for words for once. Five nods agreed with her and twelve feet trumpeted down the stairs and into the kitchen. No one was quite expecting the sight that waited for them.  
"Dobby?" Harry was the first to speak.  
"'Tis I, Harry Potter! 'Tis I!" The house-elf squeaked.  
"Erm... What are you doing in my kitchen, Dobby?" Hermione asked, torn somewhere between amusement and terror at what her parents would say if they saw a house-elf in their kitchen, especially with the kids 'on probation.'  
"Dobby has a message, Harry Potter, sir, for Harry Potter and his noble friends!"  
"What is it, Dobby?"  
"Professor Dumbledore sir says that Miss Rita Skeeter escaped the Muggle cab that sir's friends called for her and is running loose in London. Sir Professor wanted reminding sir that the Ministry of Magic is there, sir, as well as the Daily Prophet. Sir Professor wanted to know if sir or sir's friends had ideas on how to corner her?"  
"Fred, George, I thought you were going to tell her that the um, my books were at Harrod's?" Harry asked, rounding on the twins.  
"We did."  
"Maybe, sir, maybe she thought anything at Harrod's could be bought anywhere, sir."  
"Merlin's toe jam! Hermione, what will we do now? What if she's gone to Flourish and Blott's? What if she shows up in Diagon Alley? What if she goes back to the Prophet?"  
"Ron, calm down! She won't. Um, Dobby, would you tell Professor Dumbledore to check every Muggle bookstore. She'll probably be in one of those, looking for...books. Tell him, by JK Rowling."  
"Will do, Miss."  
"Thank you, Dobby."  
*Crack* and he was gone.  
"Rita disappeared? Oh great."  
"Um, lunch?" Ron asked in response to his stomach's extremely loud gurgle.  
They had tuna sandwiches and juice. By the time they finished eating, it was nearly four o'clock.  
"Should we start the third book yet?"  
"I've a better idea!" George shouted, pulling Fred along with him. Almost before anyone had even realized that they'd left, a shriek came from Hermione's direction, then an equally shrill one from Ron's.   
"Water balloons!" Ron roared in his normal octave.  
"We never finished them up!" Fred yelled down, his head sticking out the bathroom window that was directly above the small garden where they'd eaten.  
*Splash**splash**splash* and Ginny and Harry were wet, and Ron again.  
A few more sporadic poppings of balloons, and Fred announced to the courtyard that they were done.  
"About (censored) time," Ron muttered to Harry as the four soggy teenagers walked back in to the kitchen.   
  
~*~  
"Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban." Harry began this book in a quieter tone than he'd begun the first two; experience had taught him that the trauma would never really cease with those who didn't know the full story.   
Halfway through (actually the chapter entitled "Grim Defeat"), an owl tapped lightly on Hermione's window. Everyone jumped a little, though Fred and George tried to play it off by jumping even higher as though they'd not been startled the first time.  
Shaking her head and mumbling incoherently, Hermione got onto her feet and opened the window. A rather important looking owl walked in, held its leg out and let Hermione untie the letter. Shaking its feathers and hooting disapprovingly at Fred and George, the owl left without waiting for a reply.  
"Dear Harry, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, George, and Fred," Hermione read, "Please know that Ms. Rita Skeeter, formerly of the Daily Prophet, has been apprehended. Hit-wizards will deal with her in two hours' time, as is proper to crimes of her magnitude. It has been discovered that she was an illegal Animagus and used many illegal, and some Dark, means to get stories that usually turned out to be false anyway. Just for your information. And Harry, do owl if you have any dreams. Very sincerely, Professor A. Dumbledore, Headmaster, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry"  
"Well." The single word summed it up very well indeed.  
"So, Grim Defeat...." Harry continued the story after yet another uncomfortable silence had exceeded its welcome.  
Three hours had passed along with the story before anyone knew that it had.   
"Um. Just so you know, Rita Skeeter is no longer a problem," Hermione said tentatively.  
"And this book was pretty much right on the money."  
No more words needed to be passed. Hermione motioned to Ron and he unclasped his hands. He had grabbed them together at the first mention of Scabbers in the Shrieking Shack and his knuckles had long since turned white. Flexing his hands as though to see if they were still working properly, his face mirrored the pain he felt in moving them from the position they'd been in for an hour.  
"Hey... No more Rita!"  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
A/N: Warned you it would suck. It took me the better part of an hour to finish this, and it's 8 pages, so I know it's still short, but it's 2 in the fricking morning! Give me a break. And sorry it's so abrupt with the books, but I must get them through them and this works as well as any other way. Rita was annoying me, so I killed her off. Live with it. (But, here's what will really bug you: Is she really dead? I said they'd deal with her, but then I skipped three hours, bum bum buuuuuuuum!)   
Yes. Um, there was something else, what was it?   
I was having far too much fun with the dialogue!! Dumbledore and the Sorting Hat just gives so much material! I get the impression that they talk often, and so joke around, but can be serious (not Sirius) when the situation calls.  
Is it just me, or does it take these people a long time to finish a book? Well, when one has to read it aloud and it's true for them, I suppose that can work.   
Good night!! Long awaited and really needed sleep ahoy!  
If you need me, I'll be vacationing in Nod. Leave a message with my house-elf and maybe I'll get back to you. Next part should be up soon. Review!  
  
(-:  



	10. Rita's Gone, Fan Fiction Tries to Return...

Discovering Fan Fiction

Discovering Fan Fiction

Aurora de la Noche

A/N: I suck, I suck, I suck, I suck! Sorry!!! When I begin to receive threatening e-mails for not getting the next part out sooner, I know it's been too long. Gosh, I'm really sorry!! I've been really busy, though, so I do have an excuse. Many, in fact. After the last chapter, I went to Michigan for a week, England for a month and a week (it was fabulous!!! I love it there, and I think I'm going back next summer, too, and to Scotland!), New York for a week, and then therewas that whole pesky school starting thing. I'm sure you'll be proud to know I'm in my junior year now! (-: Um, I got an A on my first English essay test. (Honours class; I'm so proud). I'm also taking creative writing this year, so hopefully subsequent chapters won't suck as much. Again, I'm really sorry that this has taken so long. I shouldn't really be writing now; I've so much to do today!

Ok, I also realise that the timeline is totally weird; it should be 1995, but just having them read fanfic makes it at least, what, 1998. I've only partly moved them, so it's sort of set now. Forgive me, don't flame it, no one's even noticed before.

I'm also disappointed that no one even noticed the name of the library founder. Tsk, you! Tsk, and shame! Vector! Professor Vector of Hogwarts! 

Disclaimer: Still not mine. If I really thought that was going to change any time soon….

Dedicated to those who need the humour in their lives now, to anyone who needs a smile on their face after this week. May whatever God/dess/es/s you have bless you and keep America and the rest of the world safe.

Chapter 10

Rita's Gone, Fan Fiction Tries to Return, the Movie's Found Out

"Do you think she's really gone, then?" Ginny asked somewhat timidly.

"Of course, you ninny!" George smiled, reaching down to tug at the hem of the dress he was no longer wearing; his jeans slid down a few inches.

"Anyway, we can just ignore that all for now. I don't want to think about Rita Skeeter right now. Not while we still have one left," Hermione said, looking at the fourth book sitting innocently on her bed.

"Hey, how come you guys never told us about Black?" Fred asked, suddenly looking wronged.

"G—Fred, you heard what happened! Would you've believed us anyway?" Ron looked scandalized.

"No, and I'm Fred, thanks, not Gfred."

"Would that make him Fgeorge then?" Harry asked with a grin.

"It must," Ginny answered.

Twin tongues stuck out at them, bringing to mind images of Dudley's tongue, horribly blown up by some toffee of the twins' last summer.

"Hey, I just noticed something," Ron said, holding Prisoner of Azkaban open at a random point.

"What?" Hermione looked to see, one hand on his shoulder to get a better perspective.

Ron blushed and said, "well, um, they misspelled so many things and used weird words for things, too. Look, they talk about trunks of cars; don't elephants have trunks?"  
"They mean the boot, Ron. Really. If you'd take Muggle Studies, you'd know that, for one thing, Americans say and spell things differently." Hermione tossed her hair haughtily over her shoulder, ready to begin another lecture.

"So why are the books American in the middle of England, then?" Ginny and Harry asked at the same time, both having scented the danger of the lecture. Ginny flushed scarlet, and Harry's cheeks were tinged the same, but no one really noticed that now.

"Er-" That had left Hermione uncharacteristically speechless.

"Say, that is weird," Fred (or George) said, picking up the first book and vaguely flipping through.

"I remember distinctly Mum talking about our jumpers; she never says sweater," George (or Fred) said, looking at the second book. 

"Weird."

"Well, M. F. Vector, the patron of the library, had an affinity to all things American, much like your dad to all things Muggle," Hermione said, sounding as though she had, instead of swallowing a textbook, missed and swallowed the plaque on the bust of the aforementioned patron.

"Vector… Say, Hermione-" Harry was cut off by Hermione.  
"Yes, M. F. Vector is my Arithmancy professor."

"Ah, well. That explains a lot."

"It doesn't explain though, why, if Vector has a Muggle library, nothing's ever been said about Rowling before. Especially to you, Hermione; everyone knows you're Vector's pet in that class."  
"George!"  
"Fred."  
"Fred!"

"What?"

"Argh!" Nothing else could describe the noise she made as she reached unceremoniously for his throat.  
"Hey, calm down, 'Mione," Ron said, somewhat in fear for his brother's well-being.  
"What did you call me, Ron?"  
"Er, Hermione."  
"Good."

"Quite."

~*~

Back at Hogwarts, the Headmaster was having another debate with the Sorting Hat.  
"Listen, Albi-Albus, I've told you before, there was no other option."  
"Still, hat, I feel bad about how it all happened."  
"Listen, if Fawkes hadn't been out scouting a new mate, Skeeter would still be spreading that ridiculous story about the Potter boy and that Muggle writer."

"Still, it was meant to be a calculated, neat, painless hit."  
"Phoenixes eat beetles every day!"  
"Not Animagi, though!"  
"Granted, but-"

"Listen, it was still probably quite painless."  
"I hope so."  
"Anyway, Albus, it does leave another problem."  
"What's that?"  
"Too many wizards heard her story about that writer. Someone's bound to look into it. You know that until the last, some have still believed her word."  
"Yes, I know," Albus thought heavily.

"And you are aware that—"

"What?"  
"Well, Albus, you are aware that it was the one time she was telling the truth."   
"WHAT?"

"You heard me."  
"I… Muggles know? Skeeter knew? But if it is true, then…"  
"Then her story about Harry Potter's friends having told her about the books is true."  
"I like to think my students would have told me."  
"Albus, I don't think they're ready to, yet. Anyway, term will be starting soon enough; call them all to your office and talk with them. Just not during the Sorting, this time. I've a really good song this year, I'd like them to hear it."  
"Very well."

  
~*~

"So we have American books?"   
"I guess so."  
"And at least one of the professors at school knows about them."  
"Yes."  
"And Rita Skeeter was yelling something about them."  
"Yes."  
"Fawkes ate her."  
"And the author is English?"  
"Yes."  
"So we've got a trans-continental conspiracy?"  
"Ye—Conspiracy?"

"You heard me."

"Unfortunately."

Somehow, Hermione and George were managing to 'host' a somewhat painless meeting with the other four. They'd been talking in circles for the last half hour, since the Evening Prophet had come in (Hermione'd kept her subscription to both the Daily and Evening Prophet).

"I still can't believe Fawkes at her."  
"Yeah… Sort of weird, huh?"  
"What I can't believe," Ron said, amazed, "is that she got out of the Hit Wizards' reach. That's got to be the first time their subject's got away."  
"Third," Hermione said distractedly, again skimming the article.

Harry and Ginny were huddled over the first page, where a massive photo (credit: Colin Creevy, who'd been in Diagon Alley that day to get his school supplies, and had naturally had his camera with him) showed Fawkes swooping over a scuttling beetle, snapping it into its beak as it showed signs of wanting to change back into a human. Ginny giggled occasionally, while Harry was torn between amusement and disgust. 

"Anyway… I don't really want to think about Skeeter now. Do we… want to read the fourth yet?" Hermione asked in a much less bossy tone than the one she'd been using all day. She looked at Harry, who had a carefully closed expression.

"Not yet. I—I can't." Surprisingly, the argument came from Ginny.

"Gin?"  
"I don't, I mean, I don't think I can handle it right now. How about something light-hearted?"  
There could be no disagreements with this, so the book was, momentarily, forgotten.

"What do we want to do, then?" Harry asked.

"Er- We could… We could go back online."

"There's always the homework we have."

It would be difficult to say whose suggestion was met with more disgust.

"Water balloons!" Shouted Fred and George.

"We could always, um, well, not water balloons," Hermione said, decidedly sick of the sploshy things, yet unable to come up with anything better.

"Should we just go online?" Ginny asked. 

"I… Well, I'd like to know what's out there," Harry replied.

"I don't!" Came four other voices.

"Hermione, show me how to turn it on; Harry and I'll go on. You four can, um, do… something else."  
  


And so it was decided that Harry and Ginny would go online, Ron and Hermione would watch Monty Python and the Holy Grail (there was much debate, but Ron was insistent that they watch something mindless and amusing), and the twins were locked in the guest room before anyone could ask what they were doing.

"What was the address again, Gin?"   
"Um.. fanfiction dot something or other."

"It would be co.uk, com, or net, probably."  
"Net, then?"  
"Works for me."

"Right, then." 

Within minutes, they were logged onto fanfiction.net again, but were dismayed (in a manner of speaking, you understand) to find that it was down. There was a message that it would be back up as quickly as possible.

Harry and Ginny had no idea what to do. Harry had only ever been able to be online freely that one time earlier, and whenever he could sneak a go at Dudley's computer. Ginny had far less experience, despite having taken Muggle Studies.

Thus it was that they amused themselves by typing random things into the bar, with a .com after them. Imagine their horror at some of the things they found (Harry covered Ginny's eyes on several, despite her protests. When she did protest too much, eventually it turned around so she covered Harry's eyes and got them to another website.). After about fifteen minutes of random typing, they came across another fan fiction site. 

"Warning: Spoilers for all four books," Harry read. He then clicked half-heartedly on the first author's name on the page. 

"Hey… Who's Daniel Radcliff?" Ginny asked, seeing his name mentioned in the Disclaimer they'd got used to seeing.

"No idea," Harry replied, equally miffed. Mutually ignoring the story now before them, they clicked out of there and found a search engine. Typing in Daniel Radcliff, they clicked on the first page it gave them.

"A movie!? There's going to be a movie about us?" Ginny asked, stunned.

"That Daniel Ratcrag is supposed to be me!"

"His hair's not messy enough to be you!"  
"Look at this girl; she's Hermione! She looks almost nothing like her! Least of all her hair; Hermione has a lot more."

"This…kid's…Ron!" Ginny giggled out.

"Better likeness than the other two, anyway."

"Hey, c'mon, let's go to the bookstore. I want to see something!" Ginny grabbed Harry's hand, and without any ado whatsoever, pulled him away, leaving him one second to get it offline, and yanked him to the front door.

"We're going to the bookshop, we'll be back soon!" Ginny yelled to Ron and Hermione, who leapt apart at the sudden noise (Hermione's head seemed to have found its way onto Ron's shoulder, and his hand around hers, much to their total amazement; they didn't remember moving!). Hermione squeaked out something passing for an "ok, be back soon," while Ron just squeaked (well, he squeaked out something I can't say here for anything with a G even appearing in the rating).

Once outside Hermione's house, they could see a thin plume of smoke out the window of the guest room. Shrugging at each other, they started off towards town. At the first sight of a W. H. Smith, they stopped and looked at each other. With determined nods, they set off, walking unconsciously in-step, and entered the store.

"Oh… my." Harry said, stepping towards the large display of paperback Goblet of Fire books right inside the door. 

"C'mon!" Ginny hissed, pulling him towards the magazines a few steps away, and in a little alcove. 

"What?" Harry rubbed his arm where her vice-like fingers had been.

"Harry, if the books are that famous, imagine what that'd make you! And maybe even me! Together, especially! We can't just waltz around, staring open mouthed at our likenesses! It would get the word out faster than Rita Skeeter!"

"Oh," he suddenly saw the logic in that.

"Shall we then, Lexi?"

"Of course, Vincent," she replied, catching on immediately to the obvious need of a new name. She took his proffered arm with minimal blushes from both parties, and they walked in farther. Looking around, Ginny/Lexi quickly found what they sought.

"Here!" She thrust a movie poster book and an American magazine at Harry, and began to steer him towards the till, reminding him of Parvati steering him around at the Yule Ball last Christmas. 

"Um, Lexi, I haven't got any, you know, money."  
"Really, Vincent, I should hope you'd remember these things," Ginny replied, voicing his new name louder than she normally would have, due to the puzzled stares of a few customers, while pulling out her own change purse.

Luckily Hermione did live within a few miles of the city centre, so they were back soon, as promised. The whole walk back, though, they were so engrossed in the poster book that they didn't notice they were holding hands (they each had one hand on the book, the other entwined with its counterpart). The W.H. Smith bag swung unnoticed on Ginny's arm, containing an issue of Vanity Fair.

Once back at Hermione's house, they quickly rounded up Hermione and Ron (now watching the end credits of the movie) and Fred and George (smelling of a sweet smoke, and each with faintly smoldering eyebrows), taking them without any explanation into Hermione's room. Ginny locked the door.

"We went to the bookshop."

"We know that much, Harry."

"We found these. There's to be a movie." He thrust the magazine at the twins, and the poster book at Hermione and Ron. Ginny grabbed Harry's hand and pulled him to a corner, talking to him in a hurried, whispered conference.

"And, some Muggles in the store looked at us strangely, especially because we had these things."

"What did they do to our Quidditch uniforms?" George howled, outraged. Fred had one hand over his heart, the other over his eyes, and what could be seen of his face had a very pained expression indeed.

"And even our school uniforms!" Ron looked away from the poster book.

"Really, this is preposterous!" Hermione said. "Look at what they have us wearing! It's ridiculous! Muggle clothing underneath! You lot look like you should be at Eton in the winter!"

Harry agreed with her, yet both ignored the question of, "What's Eton?" from the Weasleys.

"A movie…. A movie! We're going to be famous!" George yelled.

"No, Daniel, Emma, and Rupert are going to be famous. As well as these lot," Fred said, for once disagreeing with his twin as he motioned to the open page.

"The Quaffle! What've they done to it? It looks all dented, and… And the brooms! Medieval! Can't they even tell when they read about how fine they are. These are archaic! To say the least!" George would not be distracted from his Quidditch woes. No one thought to, either. 

"The wands, they're terrible!"

"Huge, and ugly!"  
"Look what they did to Fang!"

"And, oh, poor Professor Flitwick! They say the actor's playing him and a goblin; I don't reckon they changed his costume!"

"What about these ghosts? The Bloody Baron looks almost friendly! And poor Nick, look what they did to him!"

Unable to take any more of the monstrous wrongs, the six got up as one body and left the room. It was just in time, too, because at that moment,

"Kids! Dinner!"

"Good," Fred whispered to his twin, who nodded heartily, though with a long-suffering expression.

~*~

Somewhere else entirely…

"Master, we have just received intelligence of-"

"You worry me, Wormtail. Lucius informed me hours ago of these things, these ramblings of that reporter," a voice cold, sharp, and hissing broke through the incompetent ramblings of the one with the silver fist.

"Master, if the Muggles know-"

"Silence! Or should I say, crucio!"

As the screams began, so did a monstrous headache hundreds of miles away…

~*~

"Harry! What's wrong?"

A/N: I don't know. Thanks for reading, though. Sorry sorry sorry, a thousand apologies! This was only seven pages, probably about six actual story, and you have my deepest apologies. And why is it that Fawkes gets Harry out of everything? Chamber of Secrets, duelling with You Know Who, Rita Skeeter….

Anyway, I shall try to have the next out either Tuesday or the weekend after next (29 September; it would be next weekend, but it's my birthday weekend, so yay! Happy birthday to meeeeee!)

Thank you some more, and sorry some more!

Remember what has happened; let us never forget.


End file.
